
Book. 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIC 




r^M I lUiio 



V:^!.oBURG. 



Battle Fields 



AND 



Camp Fires. 



A NARRATIVE OF THE PRINCIPAL MILITARY 
OPERA TIONS OF THE CIVIL WAR 



From the Removal of McClellan to the Accession of Grant. 

(1862— 1863) 



BY. 



WILLIS J. ABBOT 



AUTHOR OF "BLUE JACKETS OF '61," "BLUE JACKETS OF l8l2," "BLUE JACKETS OF '76, 

" BATTLE FIELDS OF '61 " 



ILLUSTRATED BY IV. C. JACKSON 




NEW YORK 
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



COPTRIGHT, 1890, 

Bt DODD, mead & COMPANY. 



-1^ 



INTRODUCTION. 




N this volume I have taken up the story of the mihtary 
operations of the civil war, at the moment when the Army 
of the Potomac, scattered and dispirited, was withdrawing 
rom the Virginia peninsula after the disastrous failure of McClellan's 
ampaign against Richmond. At this point begins what I conceive 
o be the second period of the war for the Union. An almost un- 
iroken series of victories in Virginia had greatly encouraged the Con- 
ederates. Though heavy reverses had been suffered in the West 
hey were not irreparable. The policy of fighting a purely defensive 
/SLT was now to be cast aside by the Confederates, and in the course 
if this volume we shall see them planning and executing such plans of 
ivasion as Lee's Gettysburg campaign, and Bragg's invasion of Ken- 
ucky. The second period of the war, the period covered by "Bat- 
ie Fields and Camp Fires," saw the Confederacy at the zenith of its 
ower. This epoch in the history of the war ends with the accession 
f General U. S. Grant to the chief command of the Union forces. 

In telling the story of this period I have confined myself to 
escribing the chief battles, with but a brief survey of the strategy, 
laneuvers, and minor engagements leading up to them. It has been 
ly aim to describe the salient features of the war, leaving out alto- 
ether the details of petty skirmishes, raids, demonstrations, and inde- 
isive engagements which serve only to impede the course of the narra- 
ve, and to confuse the youthful reader who wishes to learn how the 
eople of the South fought to achieve independence, and how the men 
f the North strove successfully to maintain the Union. 

WILLIS J. ABBOT. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 



PAGE 



At the Gates of Richmond. — Pope Brought from the West. — 
General Halleck put in Supreme Command. — The Peninsula 
Abandoned. — Mosby Carries the News to Lee. — The Battle 
of Cedar Mountain. — Stuart's Raid to Catlett's Station. — 
Jackson's March to Pope's Rear, • i 

CHAPTER n. 

Jackson's Perilous Predicament. — Longstreet's March through 
Thoroughfare Gap. — Pope's Chase after the Confederates. — 
The Battle of Groveton. — The Battle of Manassas, Some- 
times Called the Second Battle of Bull Run. — A Battle 
with Stones. — The Death of Kearny. — Battle of Chantilly, 22 

CHAPTER HI. 

The Invasion of Maryland. — High Hopes of the Confederates. — 
They Meet a Cold Reception. — The Lost Order. — Jackson's 
Capture of Harper's Ferry. — McClellan in Chase. — Battle 
OF South Mountain. — Battle of Sharpsburg or Antietam. — 
Lee Abandons Maryland, ^e 



viii BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

CHAPTER IV. 

PAGE 

The War in the West. — Halleck's Siege of Corinth. — Forrest's 
Raid on Murfreesboro'. — The Confederates Capture Chatta- 
nooga. — Bragg's Invasion of Kentucky. — Battle of Rich- 
mond. — Panic in Cincinnati. — Battle of Munfordsville. — 
Battle of Perryville. — Bragg Abandons Kentucky. — Battle 
of Iuka. — Battle of Corinth, 8i 

CHAPTER V. 

Bragg in Tennessee. — Revelry at Murfreesboro*. — Rosecrans in 
Command of the Army of the Cumberland. — Morgan's Raid. — 
RosECRANs's March. — Battle of Stone's River or Murfrees- 
boro'. — Bragg's Retreat. — The Raid on Holly Springs, . 119 

CHAPTER VI. 

The War in the East. — Proclamation of Emancipation. — Gen- 
eral McClellan Dismissed. — Burnside in Command. — Crossing 
the Rappahannock. — Fredericksburg Bombarded. — The Bat- 
tle of Fredericksburg. — The Fight for Marye's Hill. — Re- 
treat of the Army of the Potomac, 136 

CHAPTER VII. 

Burnside's Ill-fated "Mud March." — General Hooker Succeeds 
TO the Command of the Army of the Potomac. — Reorganiza- 
tion OF THE Army. — Development of the Cavalry. — Raids of 
FiTZ-HuGH Lee and Averill. — Hooker takes the Offensive. — 
His Strategy. — The March to Lee's Rear. — Chancellors- 
viLLE. — The Four Days' Battles. — Jackson's Flank Move- 
ment. — Confederate Successes. — Stonewall Jackson Wounded. 
— His Death. — Union Victory at Marye's Hill. — Retreat of 
the Union Army Beyond the Rappahannock, .... 160 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. ix 

CHAPTER VIII. 

PAGE 

CoNFEOERATE Activity. — General Lee Determines to Attempt the 
Invasion of Pennsylvania. — Cavalry Battle at Brandy Sta- 
tion. — Lee's Northward March. — Panic in Northern Cities. — 
Hooker in Pursuit. — Meade Supersedes Hooker. — Gettys- 
burg. —The Battle of the First Day. — Old John Burns. — 
Bayard VVilkeson's Heroism. — Incidents of the Battle, . . 195 

CHAPTER IX. 

Battle of Gettysburg. — Lee Determines to Attack. — Long- 
street's Protest. — The Battlefield. — The Struggle for Lit- 
tle Round Top. — The Attack on the Peach Orchard. — The 
Sacrifice of Bigelow's Battery. — The Charge of Wilcox and 
Wright. — The Night Assault on the Union Right. — Charge 
of the Louisiana Tigers. — Battle of the Third Day. — Pick- 
ett's Great Charge. — Its Repulse. — Close of the Battle. — 
Retreat of the Confederates, 221 

CHAPTER X. 

Opening THE Mississippi. — Sherman's Expedition. — Battle of Chick- 
asaw Bayou. — Expeditions up the Yazoo and through the 
Bayous. — Grant's Movements West of the River. — Crossing 
the River. — Battle of Port Gibson, — Battle at Jackson. — 
Battle of Champion Hill. — Battle at Big Black River 
Bridge. — Vicksburg Invested. — The Siege. — Pemberton's Sur- 
render. — Fall of Port Hudson, 263 

CHAPTER XL 

Maneuvering Bragg out of Tennessee. — The Chattanooga Cam- 
paign. — Rosecrans's Army in Peril. — Battle of Chickamauga. — 
Thomas to the Rescue. — Bragg's Plans Foiled. — Starving in 
Chattanooga. — Opening the Cracker Line. — Grant in Com- 
mand. — Battle of Wauhatchie. — Battle of Lookout Moun- 
tain. — Missionary Ridge. — Bragg's Final Defeat, , . . 29S 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



CHAPTER XII. 

PAGE 

In Charleston Harbor. — Confederate Efforts to Break the 
Blockade. — General Gillmore in Command. — Union Troops on 
Folly Island. — A Lodgment on Morris Island. — Attack on 
Fort Wagner. — Bombardment of Fort Sumter. — The Swamp 
Angel. — Bombardment of Fort Wagner. — Victory of the 
Federals. — The End, -334 




ILLUSTRATIONS. 



^ Rations at Vicksburg Front ;s/.iece 

■^ Looting Manassas Junction 17 

V Starke's Brigade Fighting with Stones 35 

. Death of General Kearnev 43 

^ Holding Turner's Gap 57 

-The Charge at Burnside's Bridge 75 

^ The Surprise at Richmond 87 

' BuRL^L OF General Little 105 

. Storming of Battery Robinett 113 

^Gathering the Wounded from the Battle-field 131 

V The Stone Wall at Fredericksburg 151 

Fi(;hting it out , 157 

'' Fording the Rapidan 171 

\j Death of Jackson 1S3 

Charge of Union Cavalry, Brandy Station 199 

■ wilkeson at gettysburg . _. , ... 21 3 

Climbing Little Round Top 229 



Xll 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Around thk Camp Fire 
Raid upon a Baggage Train . " • 

Running the Vickst-urg Batteries . 
A Sheli, in the Streets of Vicksp.urg 

In the Trenches 

Dragginc; Battery through a Marsh 

In the Wake of Battle 

The Charge at Fort Wagner . 

In a Monitor's Turret 

Mortar Battery in Action 



241 
257 
273 
2C7 

305 
317 
331 
339 
343 
347 



LIST OF MAPS. 



Pope's Campaign 

THE BATTLE OF MaNASSAS ^Positions at Noon, Atcgust 29//O 
THE Battle of Manassas {Posiiions August 30th, 6 P.M.) 
SCENE of Lee's Operations in Maryland 
Map of Gettysburg • 



53 

29 

38 

49 

224 




BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



CHAPTER I. 




AT THE GATES OF RICHMOND. POPE BROUGHT FROM THE WEST. GENERAL 

HALLECK PUT IN SUPREME COMMAND. THE PENINSULA ABANDONED. — 

MOSBY CARRIES THE NEWS TO LEE. — THE BATTLE OF CEDAR MOUNTAIN. 

— STUART's raid to CATLETT's STATION. JACKSO.n's MARCH TO POPE's 

REAR. 

HE few Union people in Richmond in July, 1863, — there 
were such, for the Richmond papers of that day tell how 
"vandals" sometimes under cover of darkness wrote patri- 
otic mottoes on the walls and fences of the Confederate capital — 
might occasionally hear the strains of national anthems, or perchance 
the tuneful notes of "John Brown's Body," borne to them on the 
wings of some favoring southeast wind. Far out beyond the Con- 
federate lines, a few miles from the city McClellan's army, some 
ninety thousand strong, still lay encamped about Malvern Hill and 
Harrison's Landing. The army recovered quickly from the fatigues of 
the seven days' retreat across the peninsula. In the lazy life of the 
camp the soldiers forgot the dreary days of toil in the miry depths 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



of the White Oak swamp, and the bottoms of the Chickahominy river. 
A lavish commissary department fed the Army of the Potomac as 
no army had ever been fed before. The storehouses and wharves 
groaned with provisions, and the huge corrals of beef cattle looked 
like the stockyards of a modern cattle market. The camp was a city 
in itself. Streets of tents and cabins covered acres of ground. Long 
wharves stretched out into the river to catch the steamers laden with 
troops and munitions of war that were constantly coming and going. 
Out in the stream the gunboats lay tugging at their anchors. 
Around the outskirts of the camp the batteries of artillery were 
parked, but ready for the first hint of an attack. Everywhere the 
stars and stripes were to be seen, and morning and evening, at 
inspection, guard mount and dress parade, the regimental bands, with 
great pounding of drums and braying of brass, made the Virginia 
woods resound with the stirring notes of our national songs. 

Richmond was but a few miles away from the picket line of 
the Federal camp, but Lee's army blocked the path. Ever since the 
end of that day when the Confederate general hurled his troops 
madly and uselessly against McClellan's terraced batteries at Malvern 
Hill, the railroads leading to Richmond from the south had re- 
sounded with the rumble of trains bringing more men to stand 
between McClellan and the capital city of the South. The Federal 
general was in no haste to renew the offensive, the Confederates were 
zealous to take advantage of his delay, and so it happened that when 
the war authorities at Washington began to urge McClellan on to an 
advance, he found the numbers of his foes so greatly augmented that 
he declared that it would be folly for him to attack unless reinforced 
by 20,000 men. 

Meantime there had been changes in the ranks of the Federal 
commanders in Virginia. Jackson's exploits in the Shenandoah valley 
had demonstrated that one general is apt to be better than three, so 
President Lincoln ordered the corps of McDowell, Banks, and Fremont 
consolidated, giving to the organization thus formed the name of the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



Army of Virginia. To command this army he summoned from the 
west General Pope, who had been active and successful in military 
operations along the Mississippi. The choice was an unfortunate one. 
Fremont, who was Pope's senior in rank, promptly declined to serve 
under the officer thus suddenly put over him, and transferred his 
command to General Sigel. Pope himself gave great offense to the 
officers and soldiers under his command by signalizing his assumption 
of command by an address in which he covertly criticised the tactics 
of his predecessors, and rather vaingloriously promised better things 
of himself. But .the sentence which chiefly irritated his troops was 
this: "I have come from the West, where we have always seen the 
backs of our enemies; from an army whose business it has been to 
seek the enemy and to beat him where found ; whose policy has been 
attack and not defense." This the soldiers thought amounted to a 
simple declaration that the armies of the east were deficient in cour. 
age, and their resentment was greatly aroused. 

The creation of Pope's command made two great armies in Vir- 
ginia, — the Army of the Potomac and the Army of Virginia. The 
President determined to have a general-in-chief at Washington to fill 
this post, which had been vacant since McClellan had been deposed in 
March, 1862. Again he looked westward for an ofificer, and this time 
he chose Major-General Henry A. Halleck. This ofificer was then in 
command of the department of the Mississippi. The great success of 
the Federal forces in the west, the victories at Donelson, Island No. 
10, and Shiloh had drawn the attention of the people to Halleck, who 
was then in chief command of the department in which these successes 
had been achieved. We know, to-day, that for these victories little or 
no credit is due to the department commander. Grant himself has left 
on record a declaration that he was hampered and embarrassed in his 
expeditions along the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers by General 
Halleck's steady opposition. But in that day people only knew that 
Halleck was in chief command in the west, and that in the west the 
greatest victories had been gained. And so from an army which con- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



tained a Grant, a Sherman, and a Sheridan, General Halleck was chosen 
to take chief command of the Union armies. 

Halleck's first act was to withdraw the Army of the Potomac from 
the peninsula altogether. Abandoning the conclusions reached by his 
predecessor, he determined that Richmond was to be attacked best 
from the north. Though he visited McClellan at Harrison's Landing 
and saw the noble army and the vast stores of provisions and muni- 
tions of war that had been transported thither at great expense, he felt 
that it was better to abandon all this, to count all the work done to 
secure a lodgment near Richmond as work wasted, and to begin the 
campaign anew upon fresh lines. 

McClellan protested, but protested in vain. He was ready to 
abandon the attempt to force his way into Richmond through Lee's 
lines north of the James river, but he wished to cross the river and 
invest the city on the south. By doing this he would place himself 
between Richmond and the great territory of the Confederacy. He 
could effectually check the stream of reenforcements coming to Lee, 
and in time starve the Confederate city into subjection. It will be 
seen later that this was exactly the course by which General Grant 
took Richmond two years later. Halleck at first acceded to the plan, 
and promised the necessary reenforcements, but soon after his return 
to Washington became alarmed at some of Stonewall Jackson's charac- 
teristic maneuvers in the Shenandoah Valley, and peremptorily ordered 
McClellan to leave the peninsula and bring his army to Washington. 
With the promulgation of this order the peninsula ceased to be the 
theater of war in Virginia. 

Meanwhile General Lee was watching every movement of his ene- 
mies, and carefully weighing the rumors which came to him daily from 
Washington as to the plan of the Federals. His army lay between 
the two widely separated wings of the Federal forces. He could strike 
either before the other could come to its assistance. He waited only 
to find out the plans of the Federals in order that he might plant 
the blow where it would do the Confederate cause the most good* 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



At Fortress Monroe lay a great flotilla of transports loaded with Fed- 
eral troops and evidently awaiting only the order to weigh anchor. 
It was of the utmost importance that the Confederate commander 
should learn whether these troops were to reenforce Pope or McClel- 
lan, in order that he might attack and if possible defeat the army for 
which the reenforcements were intended before they could arrive. If 
the flotilla should turn into the James river it would mean that the 
troops were for McClellan ; if into the Rappahannock, then Pope was 
relied upon to make the attack upon Richmond. For a time Lee was 
left in suspense, but one evening early in August a small steamer 
flying a flag of truce was seen coming up the James. It was found to 
be loaded with Confederate prisoners sent to Richmond for exchange. 
Among them was a man whose name was known throughout both 
armies as one of the most daring, audacious cavalry rangers that the 
Confederate army contained. His name was John Mosby, and his evi- 
dent haste to get through with the formalities of the exchange and 
to be off might well have aroused the suspicion of the Federal offi- 
cers who were there to attend to the details. Twelve miles under the 
broiling sun he walked, after the formalities which set him free were 
ended, and had fallen exhausted by the wayside when a mounted Con- 
federate officer happened along and carried him to headquarters, where 
he soon told General Lee that at Fortress Monroe he had heard the 
order given to the commanders of some of the vessels of Burnside's 
flotilla to take their ships up the Rappahannock to Acquia creek. 

General Lee had already sent Jackson to block Pope's advance, 
and he now dispatched word to that officer to press upon the Union 
lines, while he himself made preparations for moving his entire army 
from Richmond to the vicinity of Gordonsville, where Jackson's men 
were confronting the blue-coated brigades of Pope's army. 

A glance at the maps of Virginia will show that Gordonsville is 
the point at which the railroad leading south from Washington divides, 
one branch going to Richmond and the other leading off to Char- 
lottesville and the south. Here was Jackson with some twenty thou- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



sand men. The great body of Pope's army was at Culpepper Court 
House, a few miles nearer Washington on the same railroad. The 
ground between the hostile armies was swept over by the cavalry 
commands of each daily, and slight cavalry skirmishes had been of 
frequent occurrence ever since the two armies had come to that region. 

About midway between Gordonsville and Culpepper there rises by 
the side of the wood a hill of considerable eminence known locally as 
Cedar Mountain, or sometimes Slaughter Mountain. Just beyond the 
foot of its northern slope is the deep ravine of Cedar creek crossed 
by the road to Culpepper. It was on the densely wooded slopes of 
Cedar Mountain that the two armies were destined to fight for the 
first victory in the campaign of Northern Virginia. 

Jackson had advanced from Gordonsville at once, upon receiving 
his orders from Lee. Pope in his turn had speedily advanced to meet 
him. Gen. Banks commanded the advance of the Union line, and had 
7500 men in his division. At Cedar Run he halted, and an aide bear- 
ing an order from General Pope overtook him. It is p;obable that 
the order Pope intended to give was that Banks should select a posi- 
tion and hold it against the enemy, sending back to the main body 
of the army for reenforcements if needed. But the order was a ver- 
bal one only, and when Banks asked the aide to put it in 
writing it was done in so ambiguous a phraseology that it seemed 
rather an order for an attack than for a mere stubborn resistance. 
Perhaps, too. General Banks was a little too ready to construe the 
order as an order to give battle to the enemy in any event. He 
was one of those eastern soldiers who had felt themselves aggrieved 
by the bombastic address of General Pope when that officer took 
command of the army, and he felt anxious to demonstrate to his supe- 
rior officer that there was plenty of good fighting spirit in the Army 
of Virginia. 

There had been a spluttering warfare for two or three days be- 
tween the cavalry scouts of the two armies, and on the 9th of August 
Jackson found himself on the crest of Cedar Mountain looking down 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



upon the camp of his foe. A line of skirmishers confronted the 
van of the Confederate army, and a Union battery on the banks of 
Cedar Run was throwing shells into the woods in which the Confed- 
erates were hiding. Jackson thought the outlook for a battle good, and 
he sent Ewell forward through the woods, while Early took position 
on the side of the mountain, two hundred feet above the plateau 
upon which the Federal troops were deploying and which his guns 
could sweep with a searching fire. He disposed his troops as though 
he had an army of at least his own strength to encounter. But 
as a matter of fact Jackson had over 20,000 men, while the Union 
troops numbered about 7500. General Banks had made one attempt 
to reenforce his army by sending hastily to Sigel at Sperryville to 
come immediately to his aid. But Sigel instead of marching sent 
a courier to ask what road he should take, and before Banks could 
answer that there was but one road from Sperryville to Cedar Run, 
the battle had been fought and lost. 

For several hours the battle took the form of an artillery duel. 
From the slope of Cedar Mountain the Confederate batteries roared out 
their deep notes of defiance, which the Federals hurled back in their 
teeth. The Confederates were all the time pushing forward, but this 
they did so slowly and cautiously that their advance was hardly 
suspected. But the sharp fire of the Federal batteries, though inade- 
quate to clieck the enemy's advance, yet inflicted serious loss upon his 
crowded ranks. General Winder was struck down by a flying bit of 
shell, and a host of less prominent officers were made to feel the 
accuracy of the Federal aim. 

After three hours of artillery fighting Banks began to get restive. 
He knew not how large a force might be massed in the woods be- 
fore him; and his orders from General Pope seemed to authorize him 
to keep on the defensive only. But the Confederates had been so cau- 
tious in their maneuvering that Banks felt convinced that they could 
not be greatly superior to him in numbers; and as for his orders, 
they were just sufficiently ambiguous to give him an excuse for at- 



8 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

tacking if ^he thought success certain. And so between his ignorance 
of the enemy's strength, and his gallant wish for victory, he committed 
the fatal error of determining to attack Jackson's army of 20,000 
with his handful of troops. And it is worthy of note that the admir- 
able plan of the attack, and the glorious daring of the boys in blue, 
came very near winning the day for the Union. 

So with his handful of men General Banks moved forward to 
attack his enemy. It was five o'clock on the afternoon of a sultry 
day. The artillerymen, who had been serving their guns since noon, 
were begrimed with smoke and powder and almost prostrated by the 
heat, but the infantry had as yet done but little hard work, and 
came from the cool, shady depths of the woods about Cedar Run 
fresh and ready for the conflict. Crawford's brigade was on the right 
of the Union line, and the plan was that he should turn the left 
flank of the Confederate line while the brigades of Geary and Prince 
should attack in the center and on the right flank. Right well did 
Crawford perform the part allotted to him. Through the sheltering 
woods he led his column unseen by the enemy. The edge of the 
woods once reached, he saw before him a broad corn-field. The rip- 
ened grain had been harvested and the sheaves were piled up in stacks 
about the field, affording shelter to the skirmishers between the hos- 
tile lines. The Confederates were not slow to see the danger that was 
threatening them, and a storm of musket-balls and cannon-shot sought 
out the Union lines that were forming in the edge of the woods. 
The place was too hot for endurance. Desperate though the charge 
across the stubble-field might be, it was better to take the chance than 
to stand idly, to be mowed down in their ranks by the enemy's fire. 
So doubtless thought the blue-coated soldiers as with a cheer they 
dashed across the stubble-field where bullets hummed like bees. The 
men fell fast, but the field was quickly crossed. The Confederates on 
the extreme left of Campbell's brigade gave way in confusion. The 
Federals outflanked them, drove them back, won a position behind 
them, rolled them back in hopeless rout upon their supporting divi- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 9 

sions. Meantime the brigades of Prince and Geary had been doing 
their duty well. They pressed so hotly upon the lines of Taliaferro 
and Early that made up the Confederate center and right, that these 
ofificers had all they could do to hold their men in ranks. But when 
the broken masses of Campbell's brigade came pouring down on Talia- 
ferro's left hotly pursued by the exultant Federals, that brigade too 
gave way and Early was left alone to stem the flood of blue-coats that 
seemed destined to sweep Jackson's army back again to the Rapidan. 
At this moment the field was actually held by the Federals, for parts 
of two Virginia and one Georgia regiment alone withstood them ; the 
rest of the Confederate army was worsted. 

But meantime reenforements from the teeming Confederate brigades 
in the rear were hastening to Early's aid. Ronald's division, which 
was nearest, reached the scene first and was led into ac Jon by Stone- 
wall Jackson himself. The sight of that hero of the Confederate 
armies gave new spirit to the men who were on the verge of defeat. 
"Stonewall Jackson ! Here is Jackson," they cried, and formed again 
their shattered lines. Crawford's brigade after all its hard fighting 
had to receive the shock of this new attack. Once the gray-clad 
line was rolled back, but Jackson rode to the front. He forgot that he 
was commander of the whole field. For the time he was again only 
a colonel at the head of his regiment. His eyes flashed. In a voice 
that rose above the thunders of the battle he cheered on his men. 
The old "Stonewall brigade," which had never failed to respond to the 
call of its leader, answered nobly. The Federals were beaten back. 
Geary was wounded. Prince was captured. Though Banks sent for 
his small reserve under Gordon, it was useiess. Before the Confed- 
erates, constantly increasing in numbers, the P'ederals were forced back 
until at last they occupied the position behind Cedar Run which they 
had left at noon. Here they rallied and made so bold a show that 
Jackson halted, and the descending shades of night put an end to the 
battle. A few shells thrown from the Confederate batteries brought 
so lively a response from the woods in which the Union lines were 



10 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

formed that Jackson thought he must have the whole of Pope's army 
in his front, and soon after dark he fell back toward the Rapidan. 

The victory in this hard-fought battle has been claimed by par- 
tisans of both the hostile generals. Jackson himself considered the 
victory his, though he did not follow it up with an advance. "On 
the evening of the 9th instant, God blessed our arms with another vic- 
tory," he wrote in his report. Pope on his part sent to Washington 
a despatch which at least implied that the victory rested with him. 
"The enemy has retreated under cover of the night," he wrote. "Our 
cavalry and artillery are in pursuit." 

As a matter of fact the battle was won by the Confederates. 
That they retired during the night does not alter the fact that they 
drove the Federals first from the field. But the victory they won 
v/as won by overwhelming numbers only. Until the Confederate reen- 
forcements came up the field was in the hands of the Federals. 
Fierce, obstinate and sanguinary was the fighting on both sides, but too 
much praise can hardly be given to the Union soldiers for the valor 
with which they dashed into the fight, almost carrying the day with the 
first charge. It was a bloody battle too, in proportion to the forces 
engaged. The Union loss was 2393, of whom 1661 were killed or 
wounded. The Confederates had 1283 killed or wounded, with a total 
loss of 1 3 14. 

The scene of war was now to shift to a point much nearer 
Washington. The old dread lest the Confederates should enter the 
capital was about to be revived. The people of Richmond for a time 
were to miss the familiar sight of tented plains about the city, and 
to hear no longer the ceaseless rattle of the musketry along the 
picket lines. The region about Manassas which had been the scene of 
the first battle of the war was again to be trodden b}' the huge 
armies of the North and South. 

August 15th had come. McClellan's troops on their way back to 
Washington from the peninsula had reached Yorktown. There was not 
a single armed enemy to threaten Richmond, and Lee had brought 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 11 

his whole army — 75.000 men in all — out to Gordonsville to confront 
Pope. That officer, alarmed by the tremendous odds against him, fell 
back beyond the Rappahannock. Here he determined to make a des- 
perate stand. Indeed, it was there that the battle for Washington 
must be fought, for with Pope once swept out of the way, Lee could 
march into the capital before McClellan's troops which were hasten- 
ing from the peninsula to its defense could get there. General Hal- 
leck saw how essential the maintenance of the line along the Rap- 
pahannock was to the safety of the capital. "Defend every inch of 
ground," he telegraphed to Pope, "fight like the devil until we can 
reenforce you." And so for several days Pope manfully beat back 
every attempt of the enemy to force a crossing. 

Thus unexpectedly checked, Lee grew restive. He had expected 
to ride roughshod over Pope's lines, but the strong defensive positions 
afforded by the Rappahannock were not to be easily taken. The 
soldiers in the Confederate army shared the discontent of their leader. 
Cold, rainy weather and a poor commissariat made life far from pleas- 
ant to the men on the south bank of the river. "We live on what 
we can get," wrote one in his diary, " now and then an ear of corn, 
fried green apples, or a bit of ham broiled on a stick, but quite as 
frequently do without either from morning to night. We sleep on 
the ground without any other covering than a blanket, and consider 
ourselves fortunate if we are not frozen stiff by morning. The nights 
are both stiff and cold." 

While the two armies thus rested on their arms, watching each 
other across the narrow river and now and then exchanging greetings 
in the shape of a few shells or rifle-shot, that dashing trooper "Jeb" 
Stuart made one of his characteristic raids into the Union lines and 
came out triumphantly with information that made Lee expedite his 
advance. With a cavalry squadron of some 1500 men this adventurous 
officer left the Confederate camp and started to make a long detour 
to the rear of the Federal lines. As he was riding past Jackson's 
headquarters he met that other noted partisan ranger, Col. Mosby. 



12 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

"I am going after my hat," sung out Stuart gaily as he saw his 
colleague. A few days before a Union cavalry expedition had come 
within an ace of capturing both Stuart and Mosby as they were 
sleeping in a house beyond the Confederate lines. The Confederates 
made their escape but left sundry trophies behind, among them Stu- 
art's hat, which the raiders carried away in triumph. 

Stuart led his troopers — picked men every one — by circuitous paths 
beyond the flank of the Federal picket line, and then around inside 
the lines to Catlett's Station, back of the center of the Union line 
and then occupied as headquarters by Gen. Pope himself. It was 
night when the raiders reached their destination, and a heavy thunder- 
storm blackened the sky and sent sheets of driving rain into the 
faces of the hardy adventurers. A flash of lightning betrayed them 
to the sentries, who fired a hasty volley and fell back, followed fast 
by the troopers, who charged through the darkness over unknown 
ground at a break-neck pace, and uttering the famous yell of the 
Southern soldiery. The affrighted Federals fled from their tents. 
The surprise was complete and they had no time to make any de- 
fense. General Pope, the chief prize sought by Stuart and his raiders, 
was not there, but his coat and hat fell into the hands of Stuart, 
who felt himself thus somewhat recompensed for the loss of his own 
raiment at the hands of the Union raiders. But a prize of far 
greater importance rewarded the bold invaders. Though General Pope 
escaped, his field quartermaster, with a portfolio containing all the 
commanding general's official papers, was captured. A hasty examina- 
tion of these papers convinced Stuart that they should be placed in 
General Lee's hands without delay. So stopping only to burn a few 
stores he retraced his steps, and was soon safe again within the Con- 
federate lines. 

From the captured documents Lee learned the size and extent 
of Pope's army. He discovered that McClcllan's troops were being 
brought up the Potomac to reenforce that army, and a copy of a 
letter written by Pope gave him the pleasant news that the Federal 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



13 



general foresaw nothing but defeat should the Confederates break his 
line at the Rappahannock before McClellan should arrive. 

Lee had begun to doubt his ability to force a crossing of the 
Rappahannock in Pope's front, but he saw the need of striking a 
crushing blow before McClellan's arrival should enable Pope to do 
the striking. So looking for a way out of this dilemma, he hit upon 
an expedient which 
was ■ in violation of 
all the principles of 
s c i e n t i fi c warfare, 
which was perilous 
in any event, and 
which would have 
been impracticable 
had it not been for 
the presence with the 
Confederate army of 
the redoubtable 
Stonewall Jackson 
and his tireless vet- 
erans of the "foot 
cavalry." 

Lee's plan was 
to send Jackson by 
a long detour to the 
Federal rear, there to harass and attack Pope so as to create a diver- 
sion under cover of which Lee should slip across the Rappahannock. 
It is morning of the 25th of August. In the camp of Jackson's 
division on the far left of the Confederate line all is life and bustle. 
The camp followers are packing wagons, teamsters harnessing refractory 
mules, artillery men greasing axles and getting ready for a long 
march. There is no stowing of tents, for "the tented field" was a 
sight little seen in the encampments of the Confederacy. Jackson's 




Pope's Campaign, 

( The dotted line shows the course o/ Jackson's inarch to Pope's rear.) 



14 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

foot cavalry had no time for tent raising or striking. A blanket in a 
fence corner was good enough for the sturdy fellows whose command- 
ing general did not scorn to bivouac himself snug under the lee of a 
log. There is but little packing of haversacks too. Provisions are 
scarce, and the tightly rolled blankets slung across one shoulder, in 
which the Confederate soldier carries all "traps" and provender, is 
chiefly filled with "traps" in the case of these ragged veterans who 
are about to make a march of near sixty miles to the enemy's rear. 

The sun is not above the horizon when they take up the march. 
It is no holiday parade, the march of this gray-clad column. No 
harmonious band nor resonant drum cheers the men on. The quick- 
sighted enemy will be notified of the movement speedily enough by 
the great clouds of dust which a marching column always stirs up, 
without further attracting his attention by the sound of martial mu- 
sic. And so wi h guns at ease the veterans go trooping along, each 
at the gait that suits him best, but all keeping close in the column, 
for General Jackson doesn't like straggling and his officers and men 
all know it. So on in solid column, the infantry to the front, the 
artillery and wagons toiling painfully on in the rear, Jackson's thirty- 
five thousand men push their way along to the northwest until the 
range of hills called the Bull Run Mountains are between them and the 
Union army. Stuart and his cavalry have not yet left the borders of 
the Rappahannock, but they will do so speedily and overtake the 
column next day. 

Meantime the signal officers and the scouts of the Union army 
are not asleep. They have seen the clouds of yellow dust rising 
above the tree-tops, they have heard the rumbling and creaking of 
the wagons and the artillery, and even faint sounds of human shouts 
and cries are wafted to their ears — the voices of the teamsters urg- 
ing on their unwilling beasts. Where the column is going, and how 
great is its strength, are the chief questions which worry the Fed- 
erals. The second is solved by a Union officer, Colonel Clark, who 
being out on picket far beyond the lines of his own command, hears 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 15 

the Confederate column approaching. Clambering up into a tree, he 
watches the l^ng line pass before him. All day he clings to the 
branches, for he knows that to come down would mean discovery and 
certain death. At nightfall he makes his way back to his camp and 
reports that Jackson with thirty-five regiments and artillery has gone 
up the road toward the Shenandoah Valley. 

Though puzzled to account for this apparently inexplicable ma- 
neuver, General Pope sees nothing alarming in it. He thinks only 
that Jackson has gone off on one of those raids down the Shenan- 
doah Valley, which had made his name famous. But did the Federal 
commander but know the true destination of that flying column of 
gray-clad veterans, he would find that a brilliant if desperate move 
was being made against him by one of the first strategists of the 
war. 

Behind the sheltering wall of the Bull Run mountains — a spur of 
the Blue Ridge — Jackson's column is speeding to the northwestward. 
Across open fields, pulling down fences that bar their path ; by quiet 
country byways where hardly a wayfarer is met ; past secluded 
homesteads where the women and the slaves come out to gaze won- 
deringly at the soldiers (for there were few other than women and 
slaves left in the homesteads of the South in that day) ; on under the 
burning sun, stopping neither to eat nor rest, nibbling ears of corn 
as they marched, weary, footsore, but brimful of enthusiasm, the sol- 
diers plod on until at nightfall they bivouac near the little town 
of Salem. Just outside the village stands Jackson himself, looking 
with satisfaction on the well-filled ranks as they file past him, and 
answering the cheers of the men as they march past shoulder to 
shoulder with unwearying salutes. 

That night the column rests in the fields about Salem. The Vir- 
ginians in the ranks who know the country thereabouts draw maps 
in the dusty roads to show their comrades how great is the stra- 
tegic value of the point to which "Old Jack" has led them. By the 
railroad which passes through Salem they might make a sudden 



1(5 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

descent upon Pope's great storehouse at Manassas Junction, cutting" him 
off from his suppHes and breaking his communications with Washing- 
ton ; or by following the same railroad in the opposite direction 
Jackson might lead his men again into the Shenandoah Valley 
through Manassas Gap ; or should the general so desire he might 
desert the railway altogether, and by taking his forces down the turn- 
pike fall on Pope's rear at Warrenton while Lee should re-attempt 
the passage of the Rappahannock in his front. 

It is easy enough for the strategists in the ranks to conjecture 
what might be done, but not one of them knows what Jackson actu- 
ally purposes doing until morning, when the head of the column is 
turned toward Thoroughfare Gap. Then every man in the ranks 
knows that they arc to fall on the enemy's rear, to loot his provi- 
sion depots, and to cut him off from Washington. 

Thoroughfare Gap is reached and passed in safety. It is there in 
these mountainous defiles that Pope might have checked the raiders 
with a mere handful of men had he not lacked foresight. Once in 
the open country the column moves more swiftly. Stuart's cavalry 
hovers upon the right flank, capturing all Federal scouts and bring- 
ing in all persons who seem likely to carry news of the raid to 
Pope's headquarters. 

It is eight o'clock in the evening when the van of the cavalry 
reaches the railroad between Manassas and Warrenton. The first 
thing to do is to cut the telegraph wires, which is speedily done ; 
and the sudden cessation of the clicking of the instrument in Gen- 
eral Pope's headquarters warns that officer that something is going 
wrong between his position and Washington. While the men are busy 
cutting the wires the thunder of a train coming from the south is 
heard, and before the track can be torn up it dashes by at full 
speed, heedless of a volley which is poured into it as it rolls by. 
Two other trains following close behind are thrown from the track 
by torn-up rails, and then the railroad is closed. The news of Jack- 
son's approach has now doubtless reached Manassas, and thence been 




LOOTING MANASSAS JUNCTION. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 19 

sent to Washington, but Pope is still in ignorance of the size and 
character of the force in his rear. How complete was his ignorance is 
shown by the fact that when his telegraph instrument stopped he 
ordered that one regiment be sent to Manassas "to repair the tele- 
graph wires and to protect the railroad." One regiment to cope 
with Jackson's thirty-five ! 

However, it is not solely to wreck a railroad that Jackson has 
made his long and rapid march. Manassas Junction with untold stores 
of provisions and ammunition is his destination, and thither he turns 
his steps though it is nearly midnight and his men are fagged out. 
But the thought of the booty awaiting them lends those tired Con- 
federates new vigor, and they step out as gaily as though on dress 
parade. Manassas is soon reached. The petty Federal force there 
stationed makes no resistance. A volley — a charge of Stuart's cavalry, 
and the vast storehouse of Pope's great army is in the hands of the 
Confederates. 

What a prize it was, and with what zest did the half-starved 
Confederates set out to plunder the vast depot in which were housed 
the provisions for an army of 60,000 men ! Jackson looked on indul- 
gently as his men clothed and fed themselves from the spoil of the 
enemy. One precaution only he took. "The first order that General 
Jackson issued," writes Major Mason, "was to knock out the heads 
of hundreds of barrels of whisky, wine, brandy, etc., intended for the 
army. I shall never forget the scene when this was done. Streams 
of spirits ran like water through the sands of Manassas, and the sol- 
diers on hands and knees drank it greedily from the ground as it 
ran," 

" 'Twas a curious sight," writes another eye-witness, "to see our 
ragged and famished men helping themselves to every imaginable arti- 
cle of luxury or necessity, whether of clothing, food, or what not. 
For my part I got a toothbrush, a box of candles, a quantity of lob- 
ster salad, a barrel of coffee, and other things which I forget. The 
scene utterly beggared description. Our men had been living on 



20 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

roasted corn since crossing the Rappahannock, and we had brought no 
wagons, so we could carry away httle of the riches before us. But 
the men could eat one meal at least. So they were marched up, 
and as much of everything eatable served out as they could carry. 
To see a starving man eating lobster salad and drinking Rhine wine, 
barefooted and in tatters, was curious; the whole thing was inde- 
scribable." 

Though in the heart of his enemy's territory, with Federal troops 
on all sides save that by which he had entered — the narrow opening 
of Thoroughfare Gap — Jackson halted to let his troops enjoy this 
one brief hour of plenty. "In view of the abundance," writes one of 
the foot cavalry, "it was not an easy matter to determine what we 
should eat and drink and wherewithal we should be clothed; one was 
limited in his choice to only so much as he could personally trans- 
port, and the one thing needful in each individual case was not al- 
ways readily found. However, as the day wore on, an equitable dis- 
tribution of our wealth was effected by barter, upon a crude and 
irregular tarifT in which the rule of supply and demand was some- 
what complicated by fluctuating estimates of the imminence of march- 
ing orders. A mounted man would offer large odds in shirts or 
blankets for a pair of spurs or a bridle; and while in anxious quest of 
a pair of shoes I fell heir to a case of cavalry half-boots, which I 
would gladly have exchanged for the object of my search. For a 
change of underclothing and a pot of French mustard I owe grate- 
ful thanks to the major of the I2th Pennsylvania cavalry, with re- 
grets that I could not use his library. Whisky was, of course, at a 
high premium, but a keg of lager— a drink less popular then than 
now, went begging in our company." 

All too soon for the greedy soldiers the drums beat, and the 
order was given out to make a huge bonfire of all the stores that 
could not be carried away. Some idea of the extent of this task 
may be derived from an enumeration of the amount of arms and 
stores that were at Manassas when Jackson fell upon the place. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 21 

Forty-eight pieces of artillery were there, two hundred and fifty horses 
with equipments; two hundred new tents; ten locomotives; two rail- 
way trains of enormous size loaded with millions of dollars' worth of 
stores; fifty thousand pounds of bacon; one thousand barrels of beef; 
twenty thousand barrels of pork; several thousand barrels of flour, and 
an immense amount of forage. 

Sorely did the Confederacy need this food for the supply of its 
armies. The pitiless blockade that shut out all communication with the 
outer world had begun to make itself felt, and that starving process 
which the South underwent for four years had already begun. But 
Jackson was within twenty miles of Washington, surrounded by hos- 
tile armies. He could not embarrass his movements with wagon 
trains, and so after setting the torch to the coveted treasure the 
Confederates took up their march again, rejoicing that they had en- 
joyed one "square meal," and wondering where and when they would 
get another. 





CHAPTER 11. 

Jackson's perilous predicament. — longstreet's march through thor- 
oughfare GAP. pope's chase AFTER THE CONFEDERATES. THE BAT- 
TLE OF GROVETON. — THE BATTLE OF MANASSAS, SOMETIMES CALLED 
THE SECOND BATTLE OF BULL RUN. — A BATTLE WITH STONES. — THE 
DEATH OF KEARNY. — BATTLE OF CHANTILLY. 




HOUGH Jackson had thus accomplished his purpose of de- 
stroying Pope's suppHes, thereby forcing that commander to 
fall back upon Washington for reenforcements, he had got 
himself and his own army into a most perilous position. Pope had 
by this time discovered the nature of the enemy in his rear, and 
was coming back horse, foot, and dragoons to fall upon the auda- 
cious pillagers and annihilate them before Lee and Longstreet could 
get to their aid. Hooker had come upon Early unexpectedly at 
Bristow, and had driven the Confederates from the field, Stuart's 
rangers had been out and brought in a captured dispatch which indi- 
cated that General Pope was using every effort to concentrate his army 
about Manassas, where Jackson then v/as. The roar of the Federal guns 
could be heard on every side, and the Confederate soldiers were be- 
ginning to wonder w^hether they had not, in their zest for plunder, 
got into a trap from which there was no escape. 

Perhaps some thought of this kind flitted through the mind of 
the leader too, but if so he showed no sign of trepidation. It was 
while the storehouses were blazing, and the Federal guns in the dis- 

• 23 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 23 



tance roaring more and more loudly, that Major Roy Mason walked 
boldly up to Jackson and said : 

"General, we are all of us desperately uneasy about Longstreet 
and the situation, and I have come over on my own account to ask 
you the question: Has Longstreet passed Thoroughfare Gap success- 
fully?" 

It was a decided violation of all rules of military etiquette for a 
subordinate ofificer to put such a question to the commanding gen- 
eral. Jackson smiled indulgently and replied : 

"Go back to your command and say, 'Longstreet is through, and 
we are going to whip in the next battle.' " 

But Longstreet was not through at that moment, and it was 
a bit of bad luck or bad management on the part of the Union 
commander that enabled him to get through at all. General Pope 
himself has written the story of the second battle of Bull Run, 
(to which all these maneuvers led up), but nowhere therein does he 
speak of having taken any steps to close Thoroughfare Gap against 
the advance of Lee. To have done so would have been an easy 
task. The Gap is a veritable Thermopylae, capable of being held by 
a regiment and a battery against a whole army. At points it is 
scarce a hundred yards wide. Down the center rushes a turbid, 
tumultuous, mountain stream, and on either side the walls of the Gap 
rise steep and high. Huge bowlders and dense vines and undergrowth 
so cover the faces of the neighboring hillsides, that a battery or a 
regiment once posted could scarcely be dislodged. 

It was at nightfall of the 28th of August that the head of 
Longstreet's column reached this pass, and learned that a Federal bat- 
tery had just taken a position at the eastern end of the Gap. This 
was Ricketts's battery, which had been dispatched thither by Fitz John 
Porter. Had it remained there, the outcome of the second fight on 
the field of Bull Run might have been different, but Pope ordered it 
away; and so when dawn broke Longstreet, who had tried all night 
to find a trail over the mountains, found that the way through the 



24 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



pass was opened to his army, and marched through in ample season to 
reach Jackson's side when his aid was most needed. 

While Longstreet was thus coming up to his aid behind the 
sheltering screen of the Bull Run mountains, Jackson had been seek- 
ing a spot whereon he might fight the battle which he knew Pope 
would force upon him. He sought a field which should afford him 
a strong defensive position, which was so situated as to enable him 
to escape with the remnant of his corps should the fight go against 
him, and which was so connected with Thoroughfare Gap as to make 
easy the junction of his force with that of Longstreet, should the 
latter arrive in time. All these characteristics he thought he saw in 
the country about Groveton, where the first battle of Bull Run had 
been fought. There he had won his title. He knew every fence and 
thicket and hillock on the field. Particularly he bethought him of 
a railroad embankment that crossed the field, and that would serve 
his troops in lieu of breastworks. So he sent his command by different 
roads to take a stand on the old field of Bull Run. General Pope 
followed fast behind the retreating Confederates. "If you will march 
promptly and rapidly at the earliest dawn upon Manassas Junction 
we shall bag the whole crowd," he wrote to McDowell on the 27th. 
The command was obeyed, but before the Federals had reached the 
Junction their bird had flown. "All that talk about bagging Jack- 
son was bosh," wrote General Porter the next day. "That enormous 
gap, Manassas, was left open and the enemy jumped through." But 
though balked of his prey at the Junction, Pope still pressed eag- 
erly on, feeling confident that he could yet catch and overwhelm the 
enemy. And indeed had he but blocked up Thoroughfare Gap with 
a proper force he might have done so. 

On the afternoon of the 28th of August, King's division of the 
Union army and Jackson's right wing under Taliaferro and Ewell 
clashed near Groveton. It was but an accidental meeting. General 
Jackson had been sleeping in a shady corner of a Virginia snake 
fence when there dashed up to him a courier bearing Federal dis- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 25 

patches captured by a Confederate cavalry party. Rousing instantly 
from his slumber, Jackson seized the documents. They proved to 
be orders from General McDowell revealing Pope's intention of con- 
centrating at Manassas. From them Jackson learned that one division 
of the Union army would soon pass along the Warrenton turnpike, 
which stretched out before his lines. Here then was a chance to 
snap at least one link in the iron chain with which Pope was threaten- 
ing to bind him before his friends on the other side of Thoroughfare 
Gap could come to his aid. 

"Move your division and attack the enemy," he said to General 
Taliaferro, who stood near him. 

Then to Ewell, "Support the attack." 

The two ofificers saluted, and gave the necessary commands. 
Their soldiers sprang from the ground at the sound of the drum. 
Soon they had taken up their position in a grove that fringed a field 
near the turnpike, and there waited for the column of the enemy to 
appear. 

Soon King's column came plodding along toward Manassas Junc- 
tion, expecting to find Jackson there. Had they but known it, Jack- 
son was within a scant half-mile of them, but when an unseen bat- 
tery in the woods near Groveton opened upon the Federals, they 
thought that it was but some isolated division they had encountered 
and not the right wing of the army they were seeking. For an 
hour or two the Union forces abandoned their advance toward Manas- 
sas to grapple with this unexpected foe; across a field, up a gentle 
slope straight to the edge of a clump of woods from which the Con- 
federate batteries were spitefully playing, the blue-coated veterans 
charged. They had no plan of battle to carry out, no position to be 
held if they should be victorious in the fight. All they had to do 
was to drive the Confederates out of that neck of woods, and right 
pluckily they set about the task. 

Two brigades. Gibbon's and Doubleday's, made up the Union 
line of battle; the Confederates had seven. Twenty-nine Confederate 



26 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

regiments with the advantage of position were about to be attacked 
by seven regiments of Yankees. If the Federals had but known 
it, they were about to stir up a hornet's nest. 

Wheehng from the road along which they had been tramping 
toward Manassas, the brigades of Doubleday and Gibbon started for 
the woods, whence came a galling fire. A fence that barred their 
pathway was down in an instant. With cheers the waving blue line 
swept forward. Back of it the Union batteries wheeled into position 
and searched with their shells the thickets which hid the enemy. 

For two hours and a half the fighting was stubborn and bloody. 
Neither side could make any headway. Standing up line against line, 
the hostile forces poured into each other bullet, shell and solid shot 
until darkness put an end to the fighting. It was a sanguinary en- 
counter. Gibbon's brigade lost in the two hours of fighting 751 men, 
or over one-third of its total roster. The Confederate loss too was 
heavy, and among those hit were General Ewell, whose leg was am- 
putated during the battle, and General Taliaferro. About midnight 
the Federals withdrew from the field and continued their march to 
Manassas, little thinking that the army they were leaving behind 
them was the very army for which they were seeking. 

All that night there was marching and countermarching about the 
neighborhood of Groveton and Manassas. The lonely country roads 
were crowded with armed men, and resounded with the hoof-beats of 
galloping aides, or cantering troops of cavalry. Pope was making 
frantic efforts to find Jackson; the Confederate general in his turn 
was seeking an advantageous position, and far off to the westward the 
dusty columns of Lee and Longstreet were making all possible haste 
to reach Jackson in time to snatch him from the grasp of his intended 
destroyers. The thunder of the cannon in the battle of the afternoon 
had been heard in the Gap, and every report seemed like an appeal 
for aid. 

Morning came — the 29th of August. Jackson had found the posi- 
tion he sought for — a steep railway embankment, running from Bull 



I 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 27 

Run to the Warrenton turnpike, along which Longstreet was to ad- 
vance. The latter commander had passed the Gap, and was coming 
down the pike with rapid strides. General Pope had found the enemy 
he had sought unsuccessfully at Manassas and at Centreville, and by 
ten o'clock opened his attack. 

A great battle does not often possess the spectacular features with 
which the fancy of the civilian is inclined to invest it. Occasionally 
some magnificent display of valor, some dashing charge in full view of 
both armies like the charge of the Guards at Waterloo or Pickett's 
charge at Gettysburg, decides by its success or failure the fortunes of 
the day. More often, though, a great battle is made up of a score 
of simultaneous movements, no two of which can be observed by the 
same spectator. Here a charging regiment ; there a division stub- 
bornly holding a critical position ; at another spot a battery fighting 
an artillery duel with another battery a mile away ; trees, hills or 
ravines hiding the supporting divisions one from the other; a hundred 
thousand men engaged and perhaps scarce a thousand visible at one 
time from one point of view. To direct such a contest demands the 
greatest genius on the part of the commanding general. The utmost 
he can hope for in the way of personal observation is a post on 
some eminence whence he can at least look down upon the woods 
and fields in which his men are fighting. Of the actual fighting he 
can see little or nothing. His ear must be tranied to catch the sound 
of cannon, that he may tell whether a battery at some decisive point 
is doing its duty. From the rattle of the musketry he must judge 
whether his lines are advancing or being driven back, and how fierce 
the fighting is at any point. A cloud of dust tells him of troops 
marching along a road, and he must have the topography of the battle- 
field and the positions of both armies well in mind, so that he may 
know whether the dust means reinforcements for the enemy or aid 
for himself. 

The battle of the 29th of August, known generally as the battle 
of Groveton, was pre-eminently a contest such as here described. The 



28 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

field extended over a great expanse of wooded country, but little 
intersected by roads. Jackson's troops, as we have said, were posted 
along the line of an unfinished railroad that extended from the bank of 
Bull Run across the Warrenton turnpike. This roadbed was at some 
points an embankment, at others an excavation, — everywhere it was an 
admirable defensive work. Before it extended a dense strip of woods 
well filled with Jackson's skirmishers. 

General Pope still hoped to fall upon Jackson and tear him limb 
from limb before Longstreet could come to his aid. The Union gen- 
eral knew that Ricketts had been driven from Thoroughfare Gap, and 
that a few hours at most would see the Confederate army united, but 
he hoped that in those few hours he might compass Jackson's destruc- 
tion. All night he had been awake, sending dispatches to his divi- 
sion commanders and forming his lines, so that by daylight he had 
Jackson confronted by the greater part of the Union army. Sigel, 
who commanded on the Union right, had orders to open the attack at 
early dawn. His troops were wearied with hurrying to and fro in chase 
of Jackson. They had had scant rations for two days. Between 
hunger and fatigue they were in no fit condition to fight a great battle. 

Morning dawns. Such of the soldiers as have slept turn out shiv- 
ering from their damp beds. After a bit of hard tack and bacon the 
skirmishers start out rifle in hand to feel the enemy. The line of 
battle follows behind. The skirmishers reach the woods. The rifle 
shots begin to ring out. Men begin to fall here and there. Their 
comrades forget their hunger in the mad excitement of war and rush 
in to avenge them. The Union batteries in the rear drop their shells 
in the woods, preparing the way for the advance of the Union line. 
On the extreme left of the Union line the fighting lags. The artil- 
lery and the skirmishers have it all to themselves there. The com- 
batants seem to prefer long range. Further to the eastward, though, 
the too-extended line of Carl Schurz's division tempts the gray-backs 
from their vantage-point. They dash out, and for a time spread con- 
fusion in Schurz's ranks. Here there is no long-range fighting. Muz- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



29 



zle to muzzle the muskets spit out their spiteful messages, and the 
bayonet searches out the vitals of its victims. Many of Schurz's 
men — most of them, indeed — are Germans, and they fight with despe- 
rate valor for their adopted country. Rallying, they beat back the 
Confederates. They follow them. Right up to the railway embank- 
ment the Germans swarm, and hold this point of vantage in the 
teeth of a furious 




Confederate fire until 
fresh troops come to 
relieve them. 

The fighting be- 
gun on the Confed- 
erate left soon ex- 
tended all along the 
line. Regiment after 
regiment of Union 
troops was brought 
up and plunged into 
the fight. The Con- 
federates too were re- 
enforced by the ajrival 
of Longstreet, who 
reached the field 
shortly before noon. 
His arrival was un- 
known to General 
Pope, however, and 
there is nothing to show that his troops took any part in the battle 
of that day. 

Mid-day brings a lull in the battle. Under the broiling Sep- 
tember sun in Virginia there could be no furious fighting. And so for 
four hours only the skirmishers and the artillery are engaged. Mean- 
time General Pope is getting ready for what he hope? will prove the 



VN/ON 
COHFEDIRATS. 



The Battle of Manassas. 

Positi'ns at Koon, A ug. 2qth. 



30 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



finishing stroke of the day. lie means to hurl a huge force of in- 
fantry against Jackson's left and center, pierce his line, and drive him 
in hopeless rout from the position he had held so firmly. This is 
the plan, good enough in conception, but which did not stand the 
test of execution. 

It is against the center of Jackson's line that the storm breaks 
first. Hooker's division, made up of Massachusetts, New Hampshire 
and Pennsylvania troops, are the assailants. Grover's brigade leads. 
"Load. Fix bayonets. Forward until you feel the enemy's fire, 
then halt, let them have it, and rush in with the bayonet!" Such are 
the Union orders. They are followed almost literally. With loaded 
muskets and fixed bayonets the gallant men of Grover's brigade step 
forward. The bullets from the enemy's skirmishers come singing 
about their ears. A few are struck down. No notice is taken of 
that; it is but the buzzing of bees. But now comes a sudden 
flash and roar from the whole of the hostile line. The bullets fly 
thicker, men fall by twos and threes. This is feeling the enemy's 
fire with a vengeance. The guns of the blue-coats are leveled and 
send back vicious rejoinders to the Confederates' harsh greeting. Then 
with a cheer they sweep forward to try to carry the day with the 
bayonet. 

Gregg's brigade of gray-backs sustains the shock of the assault. 
Grover's men soon find that they have before them antagonists worthy 
of their steel. They firmly await the stroke of the charging regi- 
ments. The bayonets clash. Men load and fire at each other at a 
distance of ten paces. Muskets are clubbed and blows dealt right 
and left. The first, line of battle of the Confederates is broken. 
The railway is reached and passed. A second line is met, and deliv- 
ers a terrible fire. Then it too is swept away. Were there but 
more troops in reserve to dash in after Grover's gallant lads, the 
gap thus made in Jackson's lines might be enlarged until his whole 
army is split in twain. Ihit no assistance comes, and a fresh body 
of Confederates, sweeping down upon the exhausted blue-coats, force 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 31 

them back little by little until all they had won at the expense 
of so much blood is lost again. It has been hot work on both sides. 
Grover took about 1500 men into the fight, and after 20 minutes came 
out minus 486 of them. At roll-call that night Gregg finds 613 of 
his men killed, wounded, or missing, including all the field ofificers 
except two. 

Meantime on the extreme right of the Union line Kearny — gallant 
Phil Kearny, with a reputation as a fighter won on half a dozen hard- 
fought fields — is trying to turn the left flank of the enemy. For a 
time it seems as though the fierceness of his assault is going to turn 
the tide of battle. His first charge sweeps the Confederates from 
their point of vantage, the railway embankment, and rolls them 
back in confusion upon their line. But they rally, and with ranks 
strengthened by fresh troops from the brigades of Lawton and Early 
come doggedly back to regain the position from which Kearny had 
hurled them. For a time the center of the battle is shifted over there 
A\hcre Kearny and A. P. Hill are crossing swords. The woods 
resounded with the clash of musketry and were fairly choked with 
the smoke of gunpowder. The hills were flaming and smoking where 
the hostile batteries made deadly play. Up to the aid of Kearny 
comes Hatch, in command of King's division. He finds Hill re- 
arranging his lines, and takes this for a sign that the Confederates are 
retreating. With three brigades Hatch hastens into the fray, hoping 
that a sudden blow may convert the retreat into a rout. Never was 
general more deceived. So far from retreating the gray-coats are 
getting ready to charge, and Hood's division of Longstreet's corps, 
being hurried forward, meets Hatch midway. The contest is sharp 
and bloody. "At one period," says a contemporaneous Avriter, "Gen- 
eral Hatch sat complacently upon his horse, while every man who 
approached him pitched and fell headlong before he could deliver 
his message." For three-quarters of an hour this sharp work is kept 
up, then the Federals begin to withdraw. Their retreat is no less 
dogged than their advance. One cannon is so far to the front and 



32 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

so difficult to move that they see little chance of taking it with 
them. But they do not hastily abandon it. According to the 
testimony of one who led the Confederate advance, "this gun con- 
tinued to fire, until my men were so near it as to have their faces 
burnt by its discharges." And when it became evident that the ad- 
vance of the Confederates was irresistible, and that the gun could in 
no way be saved, the plucky Union gunners chopped its carriage to 
pieces and left it lying on the ground, useless for that battle at 
least. 

With the withdrawal of Hatch and Kearny the fighting for that 
day ended. Night soon descended upon the field, and the hostile 
armies were glad enough to rest and reform their lines for the re- 
newal of the conflict on the morrow. Here again Pope blundered 
through over-confidence. He thought he had won a victory, and sent 
off an enthusiastic telegram to Washington announcing it. As a 
matter of fact he had suffered defeat. He had gone into the fight 
with the purpose of annihilating Jackson before Longstreet could 
come to his assistance. In this he had signally failed. He had not 
even ousted Jackson from his snug position which he had held all 
day. And yet at midnight Pope telegraphed to Washington that he 
had driven the enemy from the field ; and after sending the dispatch 
began to make his dispositions for renewing the attack on the mor- 
row. It is sometimes said that keen appreciation of the moment 
when a retreat becomes advisable is the test of good generalship. 
This quality General Pope did not possess. With Jackson and Long- 
street united in his front he still manfully held his ground. The 
next day's events showed the folly of this course. 

Besides re-forming their lines for tlie struggle of the ensuing day, 
another and a sadder duty occupied both Federals and Confeder- 
ates that night. Each side had come out of the battle with a loss 
of about 7CMDO men. Many of these were prisoners; many were dead. 
Still more perhaps lay on the battle-field, between the two armies, 
suffering from frightful wounds, racked with fever, groaning and crying 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. ^3 

for help. To bring the wounded in was the first duty of the men 
of both armies. "So soon as the fighting ceased," writes Private 
Goss in the Century magazine, "many sought without orders to rescue 
comrades lying wounded between the opposing lines. There seemed 
to be an understanding between the men of both armies that such 
parties were not to be disturbed in their mission of mercy. When 
the fire had died away along the darkling woods, little groups of 
men from the Union lines went stealthily about, bringing in the 
wounded from the exposed positions. Blankets attached to poles or 
muskets often served as stretchers to bear the wounded to the ambu- 
lances and surgeons. There was a great lack here of organized effort 
to care for our wounded. Vehicles of various kinds were pressed into 
service. The removal went on during the entire night, and tired sol- 
diers were roused from their slumbers by the plaintive cries of suffer- 
ers passing in the comfortless vehicles. In one instance a Confederate 
and a Union soldier were found cheering each other on the field. 
They were put into the same Virginia farm-cart and sent to the rear, 
talking and groaning in fraternal sympathy." 

Morning found the Confederate army posted along peculiar but 
formidable lines. Jackson retained his position of the day before 
behind the railway embankment, his left resting on Bull Run and 
his right reaching almost to the Warrenton turnpike. Longstreet's 
left flank joined Jackson's right, but instead of the line being pro- 
longed in a line with Jackson's it stretched out at an angle, so that 
the lines of Jackson and Longstreet together formed a huge V; a 
sort of funnel into which the attacking army must charge. 

Pope in his turn had his army massed on the hills which in the 
first battle of Bull Run had been held by the Confederates. Appa- 
rently he ignored the Longstreet arm of the Confederate V, and de- 
termined to attack Jackson only. He writes himself that he had 
little hope of victory, and only fought to delay the Confederate ad- 
vance upon Washington. His troops "had had little to eat for two 
days, and artillery and cavalry horses had been in harness and under 



34 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



the saddle for ten days, and had been ahnost out of forage for the 
last two days." It might be thought that under such circumstances 
Pope would have taken up a defensive position behind Bull Run and 
waited for the enemy to attack him. Instead of this, however, he 
got it into his head that the Confederates were retreating, and made 
all possible haste to attack them, suffering a severe defeat for his 
pains. 

Until near noon of that eventful Saturday, the 30th of August, 
silence reigned over the field on which the two great armies were to 
grapple once again. Not until twelve o 'clock did General Pope order 
his divisions to advance. It is worthy of note that this order was 
for a "pursuit," not for an attack. So firmly did Pope believe that 
army to be in retreat, which in point of fact was massed behind em- 
bankments, snugly sheltered in railroad cuts, or ambushed on wooded 
hills waiting to slaughter the assailants. 

Under the hot noonday sun the Federals advance to the assault. 
Heintzelman, Porter, Sigel, Reno and Reynolds are all in. the attack- 
ing column. They advance north of the turnpike, little suspecting 
that they are marching straight into the jaws of the Confederate lion. 
The lower jaw — Longstreet's corps — is south of the turnpike. We 
shall soon see it close in upon the upper jaw, crushing the Union 
army between. Over on the Henry hill and Chinn hill, about three- 
quarters of a mile from Jackson's line, the Union guns are booming 
away, throwing their shells over the charging lines of blue and drop- 
ping them where the ranks of tattered gray-coats are lying close to 
the railway embankment for shelter. 

Suddenly Reynolds, who of all the Union commanders is nearest 
Longstreet's lines, catches sight of a crowd of gray-backs in the woods 
on his left flank. He sends a courier to McDowell, who is com- 
manding this operation which Pope was pleased to term a pursuit. 
McDowell orders him to abandon the charge, and change front to meet 
this flank attack. This he does while the rest sweep on to over- 
whelm Jackson. 




'*-^o. ^ ... '^^fdt^ 



¥ 



STARKE'S BRIGADE FIGHTING WITH STONES. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 37 

Grandly and resistlessly the serried ranks of Porter's and Sigel's 
divisions sweep on toward the railway grade where the veterans of 
the Shenandoah valley wait to receive them. The Union cheer and 
the "rebel yell" voice the defiance of the foes. It is American 
against American, — a tug of war no less notable than that which 
comes "when Greek meets Greek." More than one of the men who 
weathered the leaden storm that day has left testimony to show the 
desperate bravery of the assailants and the dogged tenacity of the 
defenders of the railroad grade. General Bradley T. Johnson's bri- 
gade was posted in what was known as the "deep cut." Here the 
fighting was fiercest. "They stormed my position," he writes of the 
blue-coats under Porter, "deploying in the woods in brigade and then 
charging in a run, line after line, brigade after brigade, up the hill, 
on the thicket held by the 48th, and the railroad cut occupied by 
the 42d. . . . Before the railroad cut the fight was most obsti- 
nate. I saw a Federal flag hold its position for an hour within ten 
yards of a flag of one of the regiments in the cut, and go down six 
or eight times; and after the fight one hundred dead men were lying 
twenty yards from the cut, some of them within two feet of it. The 
men fought until their ammunition was exhausted, and then threw 

stones. Lieutenant of the battalion killed one with a stone, 

and I saw him after the fight with his skull fractured. Dr. Richard 
P. Johnson, on my volunteer staff, having no arms of any kind, was 
obliged to have recourse to this means of offense from the begin- 
ning. As line after line surged up the hill, time after time, led up 
by their officers, they were dashed back on one another, until the 
whole field was covered with a confused mass of struggling, running, 
routed Yankees." 

We shall see later that General Johnson is in error in giving 
Jackson's men the sole credit for hurling back those charging pla- 
toons of blue-coats, and we shall find Jackson himself calling for as- 
sistance lest he should be overwhelmed by those same "running, routed 
Yankees." But so far as the reported use of stones as missiles by 



38 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



the Confederates is concerned, there seems to be corroboration of the 
story. Lieutenant Healy of Brockenburgh's brigade writes: "Saturday 
we received urgent orders to reenforce a portion of our line in the 
center, which was about to give way. The troops occupying this posi- 
tion had expended their ammunition, and were defending themselves 
with rocks which seemed to have been picked or blasted out of the 

bed of the railroad, 
chips and slivers of 
stone which many 
were collecting and 
others were throw- 
ing." 

Of course a de- 
fense of this kind 
cannot long be main- 
tained, and Jackson 
sends to Lee for re- . 
enforcements. Lee 
sends the courier on 
to Longstreet. That 
general is found sit- 
ting on his horse on 
the knob of the hill, 
whence he can watch 
the progress of the 
attack upon his col- 
league. The whole 
Union army, he says, "seemed to surge up against Jackson as if to 
crush him with an overwhelming mass." 

"General Jackson is hard pressed, and General Lee directs that 
you send recnforcements to his aid," said the courier to Longstreet. 
The general nods, but sends no troops to Jackson's aid. He can do 
better than that. The spot on which he stands commands a mag- 




The Battle of Manassas. 

(Positions Au^. ^ot/t, 6 P.M.) 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 39 

nificent view of the Union charge, and a battery posted there will 
sweep the ground over which Porter's men are charging. Three bat- 
teries are called up, twelve guns in all. The gunners bend to their 
deadly work with a will. Soon all twelve cannon are flaming and 
smoking and booming. The effect of this flanking fire upon the Fed- 
eral forces is immediate. Thrice they are thrown into confusion, and 
thrice they reform their shattered ranks. Then while the guns are 
still hurling an iron storm against Porter's lines, Longstreet calls up 
nis infantry, orders a charge, and this whole body of fresh Confeder- 
ate troops goes sweeping down upon the wearied Union army. 

Nothing is now left for Pope but to save what he can from the 
wreck ; to get his army off the field and out of danger with the least 
possible loss. This he does with marked ability. The hill on which 
stands the Henry house — the very spot where the fighting was most 
vicious on the day of the first Bull Run — proves the key to the situ- 
ation now. There Pope stations a regiment of regulars, against whose 
inflexible front the enemy beats in vain. Meantime the remainder of 
the Union army marches sullenly and sadly from the field, and wends 
its way through the smoky, rainy night, over rough and crowded 
roads, toward Centerville. It has been Bull Run repeated, save that 
in this second battle the retreat of the Union army was orderly, 
and not a rout. 

There is some variety of usage among historians as to the names 
of these battles fought on the 28th, 29th and 30th of August, 1862. 
The last of the three is called uniformly by the Confederates the bat- 
tle of Manassas, and more than one writer has suggested that the vic- 
tors should at least have the right of naming the battle. Many 
Union historians, however, dub it the second battle of Bull Run. 
The battles fought on the 28th and 29th are most commonly classed as 
one contest and called the battle of Groveton. Sometimes, however, 
the second is spoken of as the battle of Gainesville. 

The loss in these three battles was heavy, being about 14,800 for 
the Union army and 10,700 for the Confederates. 



40 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Few battles of the civil war have been so persistently fought over 
in time of peace as those of Groveton and Manassas. Smarting un- 
der the complete defeat inflicted upon him, General Pope sought for 
a scapegoat upon whom to lay the blame, and found one in the 
person of General Fitz-John Porter. It will be remembered that dur- 
ing the fighting of the 29th Porter with his division of 9000 men lay 
quiet, and took no part in the action. Pope declared that he had 
ordered General Porter to attack Jackson, and that by his disobedi- 
ence in not responding to this order the opportunity to crush Jack- 
son before Longstreet's arrival was lost. 

Upon this charge General Porter was brought before a drumhead 
court-martial, tried, found guilty, and dismissed the service in disgrace. 

But the matter did not rest here. General Porter devoted his 
life to clearing up the charges brought against him. He declared that 
Pope's order only directed him to attack in case Longstreet should not 
oppose him. That in point of fact Longstreet arrived almost as soon 
as the order did, and with 30,000 men blocked his way. That to 
attack Longstreet's overwhelming force with his own 9000 men would 
have been folly, and that he acted for the very best when he con- 
fined his operations to so maneuvering his men as to keep Long- 
street constantly on the alert for an attack, and thereby kept him 
from giving any aid to Jackson. 

Many years afterward General Grant thus summed up in two dia- 
grams this historic controversy. The first diagram depicts the situ- 
ation as General Pope conceived it. 



'^-^^^ 




JACKSOH 



POPE. 



Clearly if this had been the way the armies stood it would have 
been Porter's duty to attack. But Grant's second diagram showed 
the situation as Porter saw it, and as it really was. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 41 




^/ACKSOH 



POPE. 



And this put a very different face on the matter. 

After more than twenty-five years of constant effort General Por- 
ter convinced the United States Congress of the justice of his cause, 
and the rank and honors of which he had been deprived by drum- 
head court-martial in 1862 were restored to him by act of Congress 
in 1887. 

Once again Pope and Jackson measured swords before the great 
army led by the former reached a haven of refuge at Washington. 
It was on the second day after the fighting at Manassas that the 
redoubtable foot cavalry came crowding down upon the Union right 
flank by the Little River turnpike from the northwe^^t. Jackson had 
tried again his favorite tactics of making a long detour and falling 
upon his enemy's rear. But on this occasion his usual good fortune 
deserted him. His men, wearied with long marches and nearly a week 
of continuous and stubborn fighting, could no longer get over the 
ground with that celerity which had earned for them the title of the 
"foot cavalry." Ever since the day of fighting at Manassas, too, a 
cold, drenching rain had been falling, making the roads heavy with mud 
and breaking down the spirits even of Jackson's hardy veterans. So 
it happened that the march of the Confederate column was so delib- 
erate that Pope was able to keep himself well posted as to its pro- 
gress, and when Jackson seemed to threaten his rear he sent the 
fresh troops of Sumner to meet him at Chantilly, and ordered Reno, 
Hooker, and Kearny to support him. 

It was near five o'clock of the afternoon of September ist that 
Jackson's skirmishers encountered those of Reno, and a pitched battle 
soon began. The rain was still falling heavily, and the air soon 
became murky with the smoke of countless guns. The Confederates 



42 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



took the offensive, but were repulsed at all points with seeming ease 
Then the Union troops rushed forward in their turn, but were 
dashed back, while Isaac J. Stevens, who was leading the charge in 
person, was shot dead. It was while the fighting was at its fiercest 
that an officer commanding one of Jackson's brigades sent word to the 
commander that his men must retire, because the drenching rain was 
making their ammunition useless. 

"Tell him to hold his ground," responded Jackson. "If his guns 
will not go off neither will the enemy's." 

It was nearly nightfall when the battle began, and the armies 
had not been fighting long when it grew so dark that none could 
tell friend from foe. The darkness cost one brave Union soldier his 
life. General Philip Kearny, having in some way become separated 
from his command, set out to look for it, and rode straight into the 
skirmish line of the' enemy. "What troops are these?" he shouted 
as he saw a group of soldiers rise up out of the fog and smoke 
before him. Then without awaiting an answer he wheeled his horse 
and started to escape. But the Confederates were as quick as he, 
and their bullets were speedier than his charger. A dozen musket- 
shots rang out, and brave Kearny fell dead from his horse. General 
Jackson sent his body into the Union lines next day with a military 
escort. 

When the darkness at last put an end to the fighting the Fed- 
erals had lost 1300 men, the Confederates 800. Neither side had 
gained any marked advantage, but as Jackson had tried to turn the 
Union flank and failed, the battle of Chantilly must be regarded as a 
defeat for him. 

The next day the Union army withdrew within the cordon of 
forts surrounding Washington, and the career of the army under Pope 
was ended. The Army of Virginia which he had commanded was 
made part of the Army of the Potomac under McClellan, and Gen- 
eral Pope returned to the west, where, as he said in his grandiloquent 
address, he had seen only the backs of his enemies. 




DEATH OF GENERAL KEARNEY. 




CHAPTER III. 




THE INVASION OF MARYLAND. HIGH HOPES OF THE CONFEDERATES. — THEY 

MEET A COLD RECEPTION. THE LOST ORDER. JACKSON'S CAPTURE OF 

harper's ferry. MCCLELLAN IN CHASE. BATTLE OF SOUTH MOUN- 
TAIN. BATTLE OF SHARPSBURG OR ANTIETAM. LEE ABANDONS MARY- 
LAND. 

1 

JF course while these stirring events were occurring in Vir- 
ginia, there was fighting, and plenty of it, in the west. But 
for the sake of making our narrative continuous we will de- 
fer telHng of the operations of the armies west of the Alleghanies until 
we have finished with the story of the moves made on the great 
checker-board about Washington, by the armies under McClellan and 
Lee in the fall and winter of 1862. 

In Virginia the military prospects of the South were never so 
bright as in the pleasant autumn days of September, 1862. After 
long months of fighting the armies of the Union had been beaten 
away from the Confederate capital. For the first time in more than 
six months no hostile force threatened Richmond. McClellan first, 
and Pope after him, had been met and defeated. Now, instead of 
Richmond being surrounded by the muzzles of hostile cannon, it was 
Washington that was beleaguered, and the streets of the Federal capi- 
tal were crowded with the stragglers and unattached soldiers who had 
lost their commands in the confusion attendant upon defeat. 

45 



46 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

But General Lee could not hope to take Washington by attacking 
it from Virginia. Not only the Potomac was between him and the 
capital city, but a cordon of forts on the Virginia side of the river 
made the approach of a hostile force impossible. Yet the Confeder- 
ate general knew that it was his time to assume the offensive. His 
successes must be followed up. And so he determined to take his 
army over into Maryland, whence he might either proceed into Penn- 
sylvania, or swing round and fall upon Washington in the rear. 

This was a project full of importance for the Confederacy. For 
the first time the southern armies were to become armies of invasion. 
Hitherto the fighting had been confined almost exclusively to the soil 
of the seceded States. The policy of a defensive war outlined when 
the Confederacy was formed had been scrupulously adhered to. 

But Lee now determined to let the heavy burden of war fall 
upon other people than Virginians. Ever since Sumter fell the hos- 
tile armies had been tramping back and forth through the Old Do- 
minion, trampling down crops, burning fences, pillaging farm-houses. 
It was now harvest-time too, and if the theater of war could be 
shited to some northern State until Virginia had garnered her plen- 
teous crops, all that store of corn and wheat would be saved for the 
granary of the Confederacy. 

It is of course true that in entering Maryland General Lee did 
not consider that he was invading a hostile State. Maryland was 
southern in traditions and custom. Slaves were bought and sold 
within its borders. Though it had never seceded, it was generally 
reckoned as being one at heart with the Confederacy. The assault 
of the Baltimore mob on the Massachusetts troops early in the war, 
had been accepted as indicative of the temper of all the people of 
Maryland. It was a mistaken conclusion. 

On the 5th of September the Confederate army waded through 
the cool waters of the Potomac at Noland's ford. General Jackson 
led the way, his head bare, his face grave and thoughtful, as though 
asking the blessing of Providence upon this expedition so fraught with 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 47 



importance to the southern cause. Some one started the southern 
army song, "Maryland, My Maryland," and the whole army caught it 
up and shouted out the melody until the woods on the banks re- 
sounded. 

Dear mother ! burst the tyrant's chain, 

Maryland ! 
Virghiia should not call in vain, 

Maryland ! 
She meets her sisters on th'e plain, 
" Sic semper," 'tis the proud refrain, 
That baffles minions back again, 

Maryland ! 
Arise in majesty again, 
Maryland ! My Maryland. 

But the army had not proceeded far toward the interior of the 
State before General Lee found that the people of Maryland either 
had no liking for the Confederacy, or dared not show it. The re- 
cruits whom he expected would flock to his standard by hundreds 
came only by twos and threes. He reached the little village of Fred- 
erick, where he had hoped to find an ovation awaiting him and his 
army. . Instead he found closed shops, locked doors, drawn shutters 
and empty streets. This quiet hostility where he expected warm 
greeting must have hurt the Confederate chieftain as much as the loss 
of a battle. And although he issued a dignified and eloquent ad- 
dress to the people of. Maryland, only a few were stimulated by it to 
join the Confederate arms. It was in Frederick, by the way, that 
the incident upon which is founded Whittier's poem of "Barbara 
Frietchie" is said to have occurred. The genius of the poet has made 
the name of the patriotic old woman immortal, but there is reason 
to believe that she earned her immortality cheaply. The men who 
marched through Frederick that day have no recollection of how 

" All day long that free flag tossed. 
Over the heads of the rebel host." 



48 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Col. Douglass, who was in Maryland with Jackson, writes: "In 
Middletown two very pretty girls with ribbons of red, white and blue 
floating from their hair, and small Union flags in their hands, rushed 
out of a house as we passed, came to the curbstone, and with much 
laughter waved their flags defiantly in the face of the general. He 
bowed and raised his hat, and turning with his quiet smile to his 
staff, said : 'We evidently have no friends in this town.' And this is 
about the way he would have treated Barbara Frietchie." 

Frederick sheltered the Confederate forces only a few days. The 
isolated garrison of Harper's Ferry, amounting to about 11,000 Union 
troops, tempted Lee sorely, and he determined to send Jackson off 
to capture that stronghold. Accordingly on September 9th the whole 
Confederate force except the rear-guard left Frederick and proceeded 
westward, Jackson making direct for Harper's Ferry and the rest of 
the division commanders proceeding at a more leisurely pace in the 
same direction. 

McClellan meantime had pulled his army together and had left 
Washington, marching down to meet his enemy at Frederick. He 
reached the little town just in time to exchange a few shots with 
Lee's rear-guard, which w^as about to leave. 

"From all I can gather," wrote McClellan when he had * taken 
possession of Frederick, "Secesh is skedaddling, and I don't think I can 
catch him unless he is really moving into Pennsylvania." It seemed 
to be one of the failings of the Union generals of that day, that 
when they failed to comprehend the purpose of a movement on the 
part of the Confederate forces they immediately declared that the 
enemy was running away. However, General McClellan was not suf- 
fered to remain long in ignorance of the plans of the Confederates, 
for soon after his arrival in Frederick there came to him two sol- 
diers bearing a bit of paper which they had found wrapped around 
three cigars in the house occupied by the Confederate General D. H. 
Hill. This paper proved to be a copy of General Lee's general order 
detailing the order of march and point of concentration of the Confcd- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



49 



erate army. McClcllan was thus, furnished with exact information as 
to the whereabouts and intentions of his foes. He learned that, m- 
stead of "skedaddHng," Jackson had gone off to capture Harper's Ferry 
and the eleven or twelve thousand Union troops there stationed, and 
that when this was accomplished the Confederates were to rendezvous 
at Sharpsburg, and thence march into Pennsylvania. 




Scene of Lee's Operations in Maryland. 

All this was made clear to General McClellan. who until the find- 
ing of this order had been completely in the dark as to his adver- 
sary's intentions. Now he had seen the hand of his antagonist, and 
could make his game accordingly. He saw at once that the Confeder- 
ate army was split into two sections, separated by more than a days 
march. Jackson, Walker and McLaws had gone to capture Har. 



50 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

per's Ferry, while Longstreet had gqne on to Hagerstown, and D. H. 
Hill was guarding the narrow and precipitous passes of Turner's Gap. 

General McClellan determined to follow Longstreet with the main 
body of his army, forcing his way through Turner's Gap. Meanwhile 
Franklin was to go to the southwest, drive McLaws away from the 
slope of Maryland Heights, raise the siege of Harper's Ferry, and with 
the garrison hasten to join McClellan and complete the demolition of 
Longstreet. The best military authorities agree that the Union com- 
mander 'made a fatal mistake in determining, to follow the enemy 
through Turner's Gap. There he found the enemy in force, with 
a well-disciplined rear-guard strongly posted to dispute his advance. 
Had he on the contrary led his army through Crampton's Gap and 
taken the enemy in flank, he would have cut Lee's army in two and 
been able to demolish either part of it at his pleasure. It was this 
course indeed that the shrewder commanders among the Confederates 
feared. Col. Ruffin records that when the battle at South Mountain 
was at its fiercest, General Hill declared that he was highly pleased to 
know that McClellan's whole army was in his front. Knowing that 
Hill had but a few men to withstand the assault, Rufifin asked his 
reason. 

"I had feared," said Hill, "that this attack was but a feint, and 
that the Union army at this very moment might be passing the 
mountains at some lower gap and thus cut in between Jackson's 
forces and the division under Longstreet." 

That McClellan failed to crush the Confederate army is probably 
due to this mistaken choice of a line of attack. That he failed to 
save Harper's Ferry seems to have been due to the lack of pluck of 
the officer who commanded that post. Let us first consider the 
movements which led to the downfall of this historic Union strong- 
hold. 

Harper's Ferry lies on the low lands at the juncture of the 
Shenandoah and Potomac rivers. On every side the hills tower, offer- 
ing scores and hundreds of places whence a hostile battery can pour 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 51 

its missiles down upon the town and its defenders. The spot is one 
incapable of protracted defense. 

On the morning of the 13th of September, the Union pickets in 
the woods upon the hillsides about the town reported the appearance 
of the Confederates in force. All three divisions arrived at about the 
same time, and soon the signal flags were waving from Loudon Moun- 
tain and Maryland Heights. By the next morning the batteries were 
in position. The small Union force which held Maryland Heights 
on the north side of the Potomac was driven away by McLaws with 
but little trouble. And so, penned in by a cordon of Confederate 
cannon, the 12,000 boys in blue awaited the attack. 

It w-as at two o'clock on the afternoon of the 14th of Septem- 
ber that the guns of Walker's division opened fire from Loudon 
Heights. Soon their deepened thunder was echoed from Maryland 
Heights and the Bolivar hills, and the whole circle of batteries was 
in full play. At their elevated positions the southern soldiers could 
hear the booming of cannon over toward South Mountain and Cramp- 
ton's Gap. They knew that in some way McClellan had divined 
their purpose, and was fighting his way through the mountain passes, 
and bringing help to Harper's Ferry. Every hour counted then, and 
the southern artillerymen worked their pieces with a will, creeping 
nearer and nearer to the enemy's stronghold as the Federals were 
driven from their outposts. Against a superior force which possesed 
an enormous advantage in the way of commanding positions, the Fed- 
erals struggled manfully but hopelessly. They knew that help was 
coming, but how soon it would arrive no man could tell. When the 
sun went down that night only two or three Union cannon were 
answering the hoarse challenge of the Confederate batteries. The rest 
were silenced. By this time General Franklin, who led the Union 
relief force, had broken his way through Crampton's Gap and was 
firing signal guns to let the beleaguered blue-coats know that they 
might expect him early the next day. But the Confederate batteries 
on the hills kept up so constant a din that the signal guns were 



52 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

unheard. Jackson alone heard them, and he sent orders to his division 
commanders to carry Harper's Ferry by assault early in the morning. 

That night the Confederates pushed their batteries still farther to 
the front, and massed their troops ready for the next day's assault. 
At dawn the cannonade was begun. The troops of A. P. Hill who 
were to make the assault began to deploy on Bolivar Heights. They 
thought they had hot work before them. A young lieutenant had 
been reconnoitering early in the morning, and brought back a dis- 
quieting report. "A few strides brought me to the edge of an abattis 
which extended solidly for two hundred yards," he wrote in telling the 
story afterward, "a narrow bare field being between the abattis and the 
foot of the fort, which was garnished with thirty guns. They were 
searching the abattis lazily with grape-shot, which flew uncomfortably 
near at times. I thought I had never seen a more dangerous trap 
in my life. I went back and Austin Brockenbrough asked, 'How is 
it?' 'Well,' said I, 'we'll say our prayers and go in like men.' 'Not 
as bad as that?' 'Every bit: see for yourself.' He went, and came 
back looking very grave. Meanwhile from the east, northwest and 
northeast our cannon opened, and were answered by the Federal guns 
from Bolivar Heights. We were down in a ravine, we could see 
nothing, we could only hear. Presently along came the words, 'Pre- 
pare to charge!' We moved steadily up the hill; the sun had just 
risen; some one said: 'Colonel, what is that on the fort?' 'Halt,' 
cried the colonel, 'they have surrendered.' A glad shout burst from 
ten thousand men." 

The Confederates had good reason to shout. With the relieving 
force scarce four miles away, Harper's Ferry had surrendered, and 
ii,ooo men. "jt, cannon, and an immense number of small arms and 
munitions of war had fallen into their hands. Almost the last 
shot fired slew the Federal commander. Col. Miles, as he stood on the 
ramparts waving the white flag that the fog hid from the distant 
Confederate batteries. One Union officer alone won honor at Har- 
per's Ferry. This was Col. Davis of the cavalry, who, learning that 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 53 

the place was to be surrendered, quietly led his command, numbering 
some two thousand men, out of the camp, across the Potomac river, 
and away to freedom under the very nose of the Confederate general, 
McLaws. More than this, on his way to join McClellan he captured a 
Confederate baggage train of 173 wagons, and with his troops and 
booty reached Sharpsburg in safety. The rest of the Harper's Ferry 
garrison was surrendered unconditionally to the enemy. Jackson's bio- 
grapher, John Esten Cooke, thus tells the story of the surrender: 

"Jackson had been up for the greater part of the night, and for 
many preceding nights had scarcely slept an hour, although he re- 
quired more rest than any general in the army. He was now ex- 
hausted, and had no sooner satisfied himself that the place had fallen 
than he sat down on the ground, leaned his elbow on a log, and was 
asleep in a moment. Meantime General Hill had communicated with 
the Federal General White, who had succeeded to the command in 
consequence of a mortal wound received by Colonel Miles, and now 
came in company with that officer to arrange with Jackson the terms 
of the surrender. The contrast between General White's neat uni- 
form and Jackson's dingy coat is represented as having been very 
striking; and the Confederate commander wore an old hat less impos- 
ing even than his yellow cap, of which some lady in Martinsburg had 
robbed him. General White probably regarded with some curiosity 
this singular specimen of a southern general, and allowed Hill to open 
the interview. The latter said to Jackson : 

" 'General, this is General White of the United States army.' 
Jackson made a courteous movement, but seemed ready to fall asleep 
again, when Hill added : 

" 'He has come to arrange the terms of surrender.* 

"Jackson made no reply, and looking under his slouch hat. Hill 
found that he was asleep. He was again roused, and at last raising 
his head with difficulty said to the Federal commander: 

" 'The surrender must be unconditional, General. Every indulgence 
can be granted afterwards.' 



54 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

"As he finished speaking Jackson's head fell, and unable to con- 
tend against his drowsiness he again fell asleep and the interview ter- 
minated." 

So much for the success of Jackson's descent upon Harper's Ferry. 
Let us now return to the Union camp and see what McClellan has 
been doing while the Confederate guns have been thundering from the 
heights of Loudon, Maryland and Bolivar. 

It is early dawn of Sunday, the 14th of September. In the 
Union camps about Middletown all is life and bustle. The men have 
had their early breakfast of bread and bacon and coffee, have struck 
their shelter tents, rolled up their few belongings, and are ready to 
take the road in pursuit of the Confederates. And now the long 
lines of blue-clad soldiers begin to move out slowly along the roads, 
looking like veritable torrents of men where the roads are in plain sight, 
and their course where the road passed through the woods marked by 
huge clouds of yellow dust rising high above the trees. Before the 
marching columns the hills rise by gentle slopes until at points they 
tower mountain high. It is the northern spur of the Blue Ridge, 
known thereabouts as South Mountain. Its highest crest is about 
1000 feet in alt'tude, but at two points are depressions called gaps 
through which wind the rugged mountain roads that lead over the hills 
into Pennsylvania. The more northern of these gaps is called Turn- 
er's, the southern Crampton's Gap. A sharp-eyed spectator standing 
on the summit of the Catoctin mountain, east of Middletown, and pro- 
vided with a good field-glass, might have seen this spectacle unfolded 
before him : 

Directly beneath him, Middletown ; nestling in the midst of a fer- 
tile valley, a clump of roofs and spires surrounded on all sides by fields 
of golden grain, green orchards, pastures covered with waving grass or 
dotted with grazing cattle. Clustered about Middletown, the white- 
topped wagons and ambulances of a great army. Everywhere beyond 
the village marching troops, on different roads, but all evidently going 
in one of two directions, cither southwest or northwest. The former 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 55 



are Franklin's troops on their way to relieve Harper's Ferry ; the lat- 
ter form the major portion of the Union army, and are going to force 
their way through Turner's Gap. No foe at this hour seems to be op- 
posing Franklin, who is plodding away in column of fours, but the van 
of the other division under Burnside is deployed in line of battle, and 
clouds of smoke and jets of spurting flame along the front would tell 
the observer that there was fighting there, even did not the rumble of 
the cannonade. And now if the field-glass is turned searchingly upon 
the rugged, wooded hills in front of the ever-advancing line of blue, 
there may be seen gray-clad regiments deployed among the trees, 
lurking behind stone walls, posted upon precipitous crags, and doing 
their best to beat back with leaden whips the onpouring flood of blue- 
coats. 

So much for the scene in the forenoon as seen by an observer 
on a mountain top and out of range. Let us now go into the thick 
of the fighting with one of Burnside's soldiers. 

A brigade of the Kanawha division of General Burnside's army 
is marching out of Middletown on its way to Turner's Gap. It is to 
support Pleasonton's cavalry, which is already on the way, and this 
small force is expected to sweep the Gap clear of all defenders. 
General McClellan knows that at Boonsboro' or beyond he will find 
the forces of Hill and Longstreet, but he has no idea that anything 
but a simple rear-guard will contest his advance through the Gap. 
As the brigade is crossing Catoctin creek it comes upon a Union offi- 
cer, solitary and travel-stained, coming from the direction of the ene- 
my's lines. He is at once recognized as Col. Moore, who had been 
captured by the enemy some days before. 

"Where in the world did you come from. Colonel?" sings out an 
officer as he is recognized. 

"Captured by the enemy three days ago. Paroled and sent back 
to-day," is the answer. "But where are you going?" 

"Oh, up into Turner's Gap on a reconnoissance." 

"My God! be careful," is Moore's exclamation as he sees the 



56 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



slender force before him; then suddenly recollecting himself. "But I 
am paroled. I can say nothing." 

He has just come from the Gap. He knows that instead of a 
puny rear-guard, it is defended by more than 12,000 men under Long- 
street and D. H. Hill. Honor will not permit him to warn his com- 
rades of the trap into which they are marching. He is on parole, 
and can neither fight nor give advice, but his hasty exclamation has 
aroused the suspicion of the Federals, and they take along another 
brigade of troops and advance warily. 

The battle that follows is sharply fought. The Confederates 
are fighting for time. To hold the Union army in check twelve 
hours is victory for them. Though they are outnumbered — for when 
the battle has fairly begun the greater part of Burnside's division is 
engaged — the Confederates have the advantage of position. 

A battle such as this at Turner's Gap does not admit of detailed 
description. The rugged ground, and the scarcity of roads, make any 
concerted plan of attack impossible. The affair is rather a series of 
disconnected skirmishes than a general engagement. 

Cox's Kanawha division which we saw fording Catoctin creek goes 
into battle on the Federal right. It scales the rugged hillsides man- 
fully in the face of the foe. About nine o'clock the bullets begin 
to fly, and the boys on both sides know that they are in for a hard 
day's fighting. As the blue-coats climb the mountain-sides their 
batteries, which cannot climb, throw shells into the woods ahead of 
the advancing line, — a sort of artillery service mightily affected in the 
early days of the war, and which was seldom of much aid to the 
friends or injury to the foes of the artillerymen. 

The bullets begin to hum as soon as the blue-coats begin the 
ascent. Pickets and sharpshooters, dodging behind trees and crouched 
behind stone walls, make the climb very unhealthy for the men of the 
Kanawha division. But it is not until the summit is nearly reached 
that the fight becomes obstinate. There about a thousand Confeder- 
ates — men from North Carolina — have taken up a position behind a 




HOLDING TURNER'S GAP. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 59 



stone wall and are evidently ready to sell their lives dearly. Against 
this force Cox's Ohioans dash forward pluckily, but are beaten back 
more than once. Sheltered behind their stone breastwork the Confed- 
erates can take the situation coolly, aim well, and hold their fire until 
it can be delivered with telling effect. Cheering on the assailants is a 
young Ohio officer, the lieutenant-colonel of the 23d Ohio, one Ruth- 
erford B. Hayes, who in later years rose to be President of the United 
States. Just as he has led his regiment forward to the final charge 
which sweeps over the stone wall and breaks the enemy's center, a 
bullet strikes him down. But his men sweep on past him, cheering^ 
breasting the storm of bullets, scaling the wall, clubbing their muskets 
and fighting hand to hand with the gray-coats they find there. Gen- 
eral Garland, the Confederate commander, falls mortally wounded. His 
staff officers had repeatedly urged him not to expose himself, but he 
insisted upon sharing the perils of his men, and so met his fate. With 
his fall his line goes to pieces, and soon the victorious Federals are 
in possession of the crest at that part of Turner's Gap. It is now 
near noon. 

For a few hours the fighting lags. The Confederates come back in 
force under Anderson to drive Cox away from the position he won in 
the morning, but Cox will not be driven. Meantime Federal reenforce- 
ments under Hooker are coming up the east slope of the mountain, 
while Confederate regiments under Longstreet have just reached the 
foot of the western slope. In the race Hooker is far ahead, but he 
little knows how slender a force is before him. Did he but press for- 
ward boldly, pushing his advance with the dash shown by Cox's brigade 
in the battle of the forenoon, he could sw°ep the Gap clear of its 
defenders before sundown. But instead he waits for reports from the 
engineers and for more troops. It is four o'clock before the Union 
attack is made in earnest, and by that time the head of Longstreet's 
column has arrived and the Confederate line is strengthened. And 
now the watchers in the valley, or on the distant range of Catoctin 
hills, can see the crest of Turner's gap wreathed in smoke, while kind 



0(» BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

gashes show where the cannon arc doing their deadly work. There 
are cleared spots, of course, where the hostile lines of battle stand 
boldly before each other, but much of the fighting is in the forests, 
where the cautious tactics of the Indian are brought into play. Bat- 
teries posted on commanding knolls sweep the roads, or search with 
shells the woods which are thought to be sheltering the enemy. A 
great battle, made up of countless petty skirmishes, is raging. 

Through it all the Union lines are advancing steadily. The most 
casual observer can see that. There are long halts, men are falling 
thick and fast, but when any ground is lost it is the Confederates 
who have given way. A few more hours of daylight and the Pass 
will be fairly won. But the sun has gone down. Longstreet's 
troops are on the ground, and as if aware that darkness will bring 
them a respite, redouble their efforts. At no time is the defense so 
stubborn, the rattle of the musketry so constant, and the thunder of 
the cannon so heavy as at the moment when the twilight begins to 
deepen into night. 

Now the Union advance is checked. Despite the best efforts of 
the officers, seconded by the ready courage of the men, not a foot of 
ground can be gained. General Reno, in command on the Union left, 
determines to go forward among the skirmishers, and view the Confed- 
erate position for himself. A sharpshooter picks him off, and his dead 
body is carried from the field. Then the battle ' dies away, though 
from time to time through the night a sudden crash of musketry tells 
that some incautious movement on the part of Federal or Confederate 
has brought on a skirmish along the picket line. 

Late at night the wearied Confederate soldiers are roused from 
their slumbers. Silently they "fall in." Whispered commands are 
given. While the Union army sleeps its foes are retreating to Sharps- 
burg. Over two thousand southern soldiers were left behind, by far 
the greater part of them being prisoners. So wearied were the men of 
Lee's army that scores had crawled away into the woods to sleep, 
and when the time to fall back came they could not be found. The 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 61 

Union loss in prisoners was but slight, only 22 men, according to 
McClellan's report. But in killed and wounded the Federal army has 
lost 1546 men. 

Victory rests with the Federals, who hold the Gap, from which 
they have driven the enemy. But in checking the Union advance for 
a day and a night the defenders of the Gap have given Jackson time 
to swoop down on Harper's Ferry, and to get back to Lee in season to 
give battle to McClellan's army. 

So much for the fighting at Turner's Gap. On the same day 
another Union column pushed its way through the Confederate lines 
at Crampton's Gap, six miles to the southward. The two battles, 
though separated by six miles of rugged and impassable mountain 
peaks, are generally classed together and called the battle of South 
Mountain. 

The sharp-eyed man with a field-glass whom we left gazing from 
the towering crest of Catoctin Mountain saw one division of the Union 
army leave the main body and turn away toward the southwest. This 
was Franklin's force on its way to relieve Harper's Ferry. At the 
Gap Franklin encountered much such a reception as Burnside met at 
Turner's Gap. Stone walls, thick woods, steep declivities, all protected 
the enemy and made his 2200 men almost a match for General Frank- 
lin's 6500. Here again the Confederates were fighting for time, and 
though defeated and driven from their positions, they held Franklin in 
check long enough to enable Jackson to force the surrender of Har- 
per's Ferry. Once the white flag was displayed from the defenses of 
that place, the Confederates spent no more time in fighting in that 
region, but marched away with all possible speed to join Lee at 
Sharpsburg before General McClellan could descend from the summit 
of South Mountain and crush him. It was about 8 o'clock of the 
morning of Sept. 15 when Harper's Ferry surrendered. By sunset 
not a gray uniform or a flag with the "stars and bars" was to be seen. 
All were off to Lee's assistance, with the exception of the ofificer left 
at the Ferry to parole the captured blue-coats. 



62 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



Tuesday, the i6th of September, saw the two armies again con- 
fronting each other. McClellan had brought his legions over the 
mountains. Lee had seen Jackson and Walker return from the Har- 
per's Ferry expedition, and needed only McLaws to reunite his army. 
Continued delays had defeated McClellan's plan of crushing Lee while 
the Confederate army was dismembered, and the Union commander was 
now about to give battle to the whole Confederate army on grounds of the 
enemy's own choosing. A retreat across the Potomac would have enabled 
Lee to escape without a fight, but he doubtless felt that such a course 
would cost him all the prestige won by his daring expedition into 
Maryland. So relying upon the advantageous position he had chosen 
to make up for the disproportion between his force and that of McClellan, 
Lee rested quietly and waited for the Federals to open that historic 
conflict known in the North as the battle of the Antietam, and in the 
South as the battle of Sharpsburg. 

To the eastward of the little town of Sharpsburg, the Antietam 
creek flows through a devious channel, with many a bend but main- 
taining the general direction of north and south. The creek is slug- 
gish and deep. The few fords by which it may be crossed were, at 
the time the hostile armies were arrayed along the banks, waist deep in 
water. Three bridges cross the stream near Sharpsburg. 

The Confederate line was formed along a bold crest from which 
the fields and woods sloped away to the bank of the Antietam, a quar- 
ter of a mile to the eastward. The left flank of the line rested on 
the Potomac river, and that stream swept in a series of vast curves 
back of Lee's army and around until it almost touched his right flank. 
So with a deep creek covering his front, the Potomac protecting both 
flanks, a level turnpike and a good ford in his rear should a retreat be 
necessary, General Lee awaited the beginning of a battle which he had 
hoped to escape, but of which he was prepared to make the best. 

For nearly a day the blue-clad regiments of the L^nion army 
came pouring down over the summit of South Mountain, and settling 
like a swarm of bees along the eastern shore of the Antietam creek. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 63 



All along the line of the creek they were massed, not far from 86,000 
men in all. On every high hill the batteries were posted. By every 
bridge and ford were vigilant pickets to give prompt notice of any 
threatened crossing by the enemy, and determined detachments of 
infantry and artillery ready to beat him back. 

It was about noon of the i6th that the cannon began to sing 
along both lines. A long ridge sheltered the Federals from the 
enemy's fire, and so long as they were content to rest quiet in their 
places no harm could come to them. But curiosity to see what was 
going on across the creek was strong, and reconnoitering parties even 
scaled the ridge and drew the enemy's fire. But though the can- 
noneers worked manfully away with their great guns, and the pickets 
kept up a constant exchange of bullets, most of the fighting on that 
day was in pursuance of no plan and amounted to but little. Late 
in the afternoon, however, McClellan played his first card. Hooker 
crossed the creek by the bridge and ford on the extreme right of 
the Union line, and turning southward, moved down upon the Con- 
federate left flank. Then for a time the pulse of battle quickened. 
Hood's Confederate division was opposed to Hooker, and held its 
ground obstinately, fighting from behind stone walls and fences. But 
before either side could win the mastery darkness fell upon the scene 
and the fighting was ended. 

There was little activity that night on the Confederate side. Lee 
had chosen his line of defense; his men were in position, and there 
was little for them to do save to rest while the pickets kept watch 
upon the enemy. But along the Union lines there was marching and 
countermarching. Through the black night columns of armed men 
were stealthily moving over to the right of the line, where the main 
attack was to be made on the morrow. General Mansfield with the 
Twelfth Corps crossed the river by the ford that Hooker had passed, 
and took up a position about a mile in Hooker's rear. Still remam- 
ing on the east bank of the Antietam within supporting distance was 
Sumner, the grizzled veteran whose march through the Chickahominy 



()4 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

swamp saved the day at Seven Pines. There were no fires allowed 
along the Union lines that night, and one of the soldiers of Burn- 
side's division tells how the soldiers mixed their ground coffee Avith 
sugar in their hands, and devoured the choking, powdery stuff. "I 
think we were the more easily inclined to this crude disposal of our 
rations," he writes, "from a feeling that for many of us the need of 
drawing them would cease forever on the following day." 

Let us look more closely at that portion of the battle-field which 
lies in front of Hooker's men, as they bi\'ouacked that chill Septem- 
ber night. It was there that the most bitter fighting of one of the 
most desperate battles of the war took place. 

Scarce a hundred yards in front of Hooker's pickets, who were 
facing south, was the picket line of the enemy. Back of this line and 
to the east was a clump of trees called the East woods, which shel- 
tered a Confederate battery. A line of gray-clad soldiers, crouching 
behind roughly built breast works of fence-rails, extended from the East 
wood across the turnpike to the point where a spot of gleaming white, 
almost hidden in the trees, indicated the position of a little Dunker 
church, destined to gain a fame as permanent as that of another little 
county chapel that gave its name to the battle of Shiloh. Back of 
the Dunker church were the shady recesses of the West woods. Be- 
tween the two woods was a rolling stretch of land cut up into corn- 
fields. Right in front of Doubleday's division, which formed Hooker's 
right wing, was the roomy farmhouse of Mr. Miller. West of I\Iil- 
ler's house was the cabin of farmer Nicodemus, and on a smooth hill 
near it a Confederate battery that could sweep the country in every 
direction with its shells. 

The morning of the 17th was chill and damp. A dense fog hung 
over the hostile armies. The summits of the neighboring mountains 
were lost in the clouds. Cold and cramped with their bivouac, the 
soldiers of both armies unrolled themselves from their blankets and 
gulped down their coffee and bread. While they were eating the fir- 
ing along the picket line began, then the Confederate battery near the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 65 



East wood began to boom out defiance to Hooker and his men. The 
challenge was promptly accepted, and Hooker pushed forward into the 
corn-fields between the East and West woods. 

Meantime scores of Union cannon on the east side of the creek 
nearly a mile away had caught up the chorus of death, and were throw- 
ing solid shot into the woods that hid the Confederate lines. The 
enemy's guns replied stoutly, but were no match for McClellan's artil- 
lery. And on the hill about the Miller house the guns of the U. S. 
4th artillery were banging away and throwing their shells over the 
heads of Hooker's advancing regiments and into the faces of the foe. 
It was hot fighting all along the line. With bull-dog tenacity the 
gray-coats held on to their position in the East woods, contesting bit- 
terly the advance of Ricketts. It was there, on the Union left, that 
the only decided advantage won by any of Hooker's three divisions 
was gained, for Ricketts, aided by the Union artillery at the Miller 
house, and beyond the creek, succeeded in gaining the edge of the 
woods, and held that position even when he saw the right of Hook- 
er's line driven back mangled and bleeding. 

For it w^as on the right of Hooker's line that the carnage proved 
too great for veterans who had passed through the baptism of fire 
half a score of times to bear. Gibbon's brigade of Doubleday's divi- 
sion fell into a trap, and was suddenly taken in flank by a terrific fire 
from the Confederates in the West wood. Before the leaden storm 
men fell like grass before the scythe of the mower. A Wisconsin 
regiment upon which fell the full force of the withering storm made 
for the turnpike, where, lying down behind a fence of posts and rails, 
they strove their best to hold the enemy in check. The main body ♦ 
of Gibbon's brigade, however, leaped the fence and charged gallantly 
forward into the teeth of the storm. But brave though they were 
they could make no headway against the tempest. IMen looked dazed 
as suddenly they found themselves standing alone, with their comrades 
shot down by scores right and left of them. Broken to pieces by the 
fire, the brigade broke and the survivors fled through the corn-field 



()(j BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

seeking shelter. Then the Confederates in their turn swarmed out of 
the woods and swooped down upon Gibbon's shattered ranks scream- 
ing the historic "rebel yell" that signalized so many gallant charges. 
But though sorely broken, Gibbon's lines still had fight in them. His 
cannon, double-shotted with canister, roared. His shattered lines closed 
up and met the enemy's assault with dogged determination. As the 
gray-backs recoiled, Patrick's brigade came up to Gibbon's assistance, 
and the Federals again swept forward to the very edge of the West 
wood, when another murderous volley beat them back. And so back 
and forth in that deadly triangle of plowed ground and standing corn 
the hostile armies swayed, cheering, yelling, cursing, screaming with 
pain, or shouting with exultation ; every man daring death a dozen 
times a minute and death coming to one man out of every five, until 
by half-past seven through very exhaustion and loss of life each side 
is ready enough to cease its attacks, reform its shattered ranks and 
wait for recnforcements before trying once again to win that victory 
which neither was ready to relinquish. And so gradually something 
of a hush falls upon the bloody field, the rattle of the musketry dies 
away, and only the sullen booming of the artillery from every hill tells 
that the battle is not ended, but only lags for a time. 

In his report General Hooker thus tells of one incident in the 
battle: "We had not proceeded far before I discovered that a heavy 
force of the enemy had taken possession of a corn-field (I have since 
learned, about a thirty-acre field) on my immediate front, and from 
the sun's rays falling on their bayonets projecting above the corn I 
could see that the field was filled with the enemy with arms in their 
♦ hands, standing apparently at 'support arms.' Instructions were imme- 
diately given for the assemblage of all my spare batteries near at hand, 
of which I think there were five or six, to spring into battery on the 
right of this field and to open with canister at once. In the time I 
am writing every stalk of corn in the northern and greater part of the 
field was cut as closely as could have been done with a knife, and 
the slain lay in rows, precisely as they had stood in their ranks a few 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 67 

moments before. It was never my fortune to witness a more bloody, 
dismal battle-field. Those that escaped fled in the opposite direction 
from our advance, and sought refuge behind the trees, fences and 
stone ledges, nearly on a line with the Dunker church." 

But though Hooker thus tells of the fearful carnage wrought by 
his guns in the ranks of the enemy, it was little greater than that 
which the Confederates in their turn meted out to the assailants. 
There was no monopoly of courage on either side that morning, nor 
could cither one claim to have inflicted upon the other a much 
greater loss than it itself had suffered. 

And so the first act in the monstrous tragedy of the Antietam 
ends. Two hours of desperate fighting had ushered in a day of 
blood. Hooker had won but little; he had beaten back the Con- 
federate line a little space, and had won the East woods, but all the 
strong positions, all the commanding points were still held by the 
men in gray. On both sides, though, the loss had been heavy, the 
Federals suffering most in point of numbers, the Confederates having 
to mourn the fall of many of their general ofificers. More than a 
third of the men whom Ricketts led fell on the field of battle, — 898 
being wounded and 153 killed. Of the gallant soldiers under Gib- 
bon, 380 were hit. Of Phelps's brigade nearly one half were shot 
down. 

In the ranks of the South there was mourning. General Starke, 
who commanded the "old Stonewall" brigade, was killed. General 
Lawton, who commanded Ewell's division, was seriously wounded, and 
Col. Douglas, who commanded Lawton's brigade, was killed. In the bri- 
gades of Lawton and Hayes every second man was either killed or 
wounded, and in Trumble's brigade every third man. And when 
these sorely shattered commands were reformed, after falling to the 
rear, it was found that in all three brigades there were but two regi- 
mental officers uninjured. 

Had there been no fresh troops to take the places of the 
sorely shattered regiments of Hooker and of Jackson, the battle would 



68 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

have ended then. But at this juncture Hood, whose line had been 
formed in Jackson's rear, came forward and took up his position in the 
edge of the West woods and about the Dunker church. On the 
Union side Mansfield, who had passed the night about a mile in 
Hooker's rear, pushed to the front, passing the bleeding remnants of 
Hooker's corps as it was slowly retiring from the field upon which it 
had fought so gallantly. 

The conflicting reports of the "commanding generals make it impos- 
sible to state at what time the Twelfth Corps under Mansfield went 
into action. But it was probably about 7:30 A.M., and Hooker had 
been fighting about two hours. Seven thousand men were in the 
corps, in two divisions commanded by Williams and Greene. Many 
of the regiments were new, untried and ill-drilled. There was delay 
therefore, in getting them deployed in order of battle, and their offi- 
cers had some fears as to how the new recruits would stand their 
first experience under fire. 

In the woods by the Dunker church, crouched behind ledges of 
rock, stone walls and fences, lying flat on their faces in gullies, or 
perched in the boughs of trees, were the men of Hood's Confederate 
division, far less in number than those who were coming to assail 
them, but possessing an inestimable advantage in position. 

The Twelfth Corps goes into action on almost the same lines as 
those followed by the First Corps. The direction of the attack is a 
little more to the westward, because Ricketts has driven most of the 
Confederates out of the East woods, and the points of attack are now 
the corn-field, the West woods, and the Dunker church. In the 
corn-field the gray coats are swarming again, and their bullets come 
with angry hiss and an occasional spiteful spat among the Union sol- 
diers who are forming their lines by Miller's house, ready to march 
into the valley of the shadow of death. There are plenty of brave 
men in Mansfield's corps, — they are going to show their bravery when 
they get down into that corn-field, — but this business of standing still 
and forming lines while an unseen enemy is peppering away only a few 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 69 

yards in your front is trying to recruits. Still they hold their ground 
gallantly, and are giving back to the Confederates as good as they 
send, when General Mansfield rides up. He sees his men firing into 
the corn-field where he had not expected to find any of the enemy. 
No colors are flying there. The uniforms of the men among the 
corn cannot be plainly seen. May they not be friends? He orders 
his men to cease firing, and himself rides forward to reconnoitre. 
Straight to the front he rides, a conspicuous object with his white 
hair streaming in the wind. An old Indian fighter, he knows no fear^ 
As he comes to the front rank of a Maine regiment which leads the 
van, a captain and a sergeant beg him to go no further. 

"See, general," they cry. "Those are the enemy. See their gray 
coats. They are aiming at you and at us now." 

"Yes, yes, you are right," responds Mansfield, but before he can say 
more he is hit. He tries to turn his horse, but the animal too has 
been struck and will not obey the rein. Then the men lift the gen- 
eral from his steed and carry him tenderly to the rear, where it is 
discovered that his wound is mortal. 

General Williams now succeeds to Mansfield's command. As he 
is about to order the advance General Hooker comes up to tell him 
what he learned during the fight of the morning, and to offer some 
suggestions. While they are talking Hooker suddenly faints. He had 
been wounded an hour before, but in the excitement of the battle had 
known nothing of it until weakened by loss of blood. 

Williams led the Twelfth Corps over the same route that the sol- 
diers of Hooker's corps had already marked out with their blood. 
Down the slope before Miller's house, through the corn-field, plodding 
along over the plowed ground, driving out of the East woods the 
few Confederates who still remained there, trying to drive out of the 
West wood the thousands of gray-coats who stubbornly refused to 
be driven, — act second in the tragedy of the Antietam was a mere 
repetition of act first, with a brand new set of characters to be slain. 
Had Hooker and Mansfield grone into the fitrht at dawn tosjether their 



70 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



combined force would probably have swept Jackson out of their path. 
Had there been any reserves now to come to Williams's aid the victory 
might have been won for the Union. But as it was, a few minutes 
saw the Twelfth Corps mowed down by the pitiless fire of the enemy, 
particularly by that of a battery which the redoubtable Stuart had 
posted on a hill whence it took the Union column in the rear. And 
so, after a bare half-hour of plucky but profitless fighting the Twelfth 
Corps melted away, and its shattered fragments drifted back behind the 
Miller house, where Hooker's regiments were resting after the bloody 
doings of the early dawn, leaving a few tenacious regiments, together 
with some fragments of Ricketts's command, gallantly holding a position 
they had won in the corner of the woods not far from the Dunker 
church. It was then about nine o'clock. 

Sumner came next to play the leading part in the third act of the 
tragedy of the Antictam. All the morning he has been resting quietly 
on the cast bank of the creek, near enough to hear the sounds of bat- 
tle ; near enough to find the half-spent shot dropping among his men ; 
near enough to sec the wounded and stragglers from the Union forces 
going to the rear; plenty near enough to know that Hooker and Mans- 
field were being beaten. Why he was not ordered to cross the creek 
at daybreak and go into battle with Hooker has never been explained. 
But it was not until nearly nine o'clock that orders came to him to 
attack, and when he had crossed the stream he found that the enemy 
had beaten Hooker and Mansfield one after the other, and were ready 
to give him the same sort of a reception. 

Sumner's line of attack wms at right angles to that of the two 
corps that had preceded him. Instead of coming down from the 
north, he appeared on the field from the east, marching straight 
through the East wood, across the famous corn-field, where this time 
no Confederates were lurking, and on up to the West wood, where 
the enemy was supposed to be. 

In this advance but one division — Sedgwick's — of Sumner's corps 
was concerned. Richardson's division was kept on the eastern bank 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 71 



of the creek waiting for ]\IcClellan to send other troops to take its 
phice, and French's division had not yet come up. But Sedgwick's 
division was a division of veterans. Its commander had a well-earned 
reputation for gallantry, and he led his troops stoutly forward into 
battle. General Sumner, a gray-haired campaigner who had served 
against the Indians, rode into battle with the division. 

As the Union troops move forward across the open space be- 
tween the corn-field and the West woods a kind of lull falls upon 
the battle-field. Except for the artillery fire from Stuart's guns 

the Union advance is unimpeded until the edge of the woods is 
reached. But all this time they were marching blindly into an ambush. 
On the left flank was a country road, worn deep with ruts, and 
washed by the rain until it had become a gully. The ground rose 
sharply before it, and men could stand upright in the narrow lane and 
still be hidden from the sight of those in the Union lines. As Sedg- 
wick's division, in three parallel lines, is moving steadily forward toward 
the West wood, the Confederates are stealthily sending regiment after 
regiment down into this sunken road to take Sedgwick in the flank and 
rear. He wonders that no hostile fire comes from the woods in his 
front. Just then an of^cer on the left of the Union lines catches 
a sight of the troops in the sunken road. 

"General. Look. We are surrounded!" he shouts. 

The alarm comes too late. Already the Confederate fire is de- 
livered. Before the withering storm of lead, coming from so unsus- 
pected a quarter, the blue-coats fall in heaps. Their lines are thrown 
into disorder. 

"My God !" shouts Sumner, "we must get out of this," and he 
gallops up and down the lines seeking to form them anew. But it is 
too late. Little by little, the lines crumble away. The bravest sol- 
diers in the army would be unnerved to find themselves suddenly in an 
ambush. The bravest in the world could not stand against that mur- 
derous fire. The Confederates advance. They press upon the Union 
flank . They swing around and take Sedgwick's men in the rear. 



72 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



Sci1l;\\ ick is struck by a bullet .nul falls tioin his horse. Sumner sees 
how the battle is i;o,ini;' aiul L;allops away to the nearest signal station. 
"Reentoieenients are badly needeil. Our troops are i;ivins^ wa}-," 
he signals io IMcClellan. I^\en while the flags that earr\- tiie nies- 
saiic are wavinn" the one-sided contest ends, and Setlgwick's di\ision 
is practically wiped out. Over 2000 men have been killed or wounded 
without innicting upon tlie enenu' an\- material loss. l"'rom the time 
the (.\>nfederates sprang from their ambush antl poured in their first 
\()lle\-. until the bruised and bleeding remnants of Sedgwick's division 
left the field, was scarce Tifteen minutes. General Mood himself 
cleclaretl that the short .md blootly combat was "the most terrible 
clash of <irms that he hatl e\er \\itnessed during the war." 

Now up come the tlixisions of h^ench .uul RichardsiMi. Hail they 
been on the t"ieKi but a little sooner the}- might ha\e axerted the 
disaster which cost Sedgwick so many lives. 

It is near the farm-house of Mr. Mumma that the lines of D. H. 
Mill .nul l-'rench clash. The Confederates are posted in a ravine 
near the house. Their sh.irpshooters are in the building, firing 

from e\-ery window, picking o\'{ h'rench's skiimishers as they advance. 
But heedless of shrieking shells aiul whizzing bidlets the dark-blue 
line comes jnishing forward. It passes through an orchard, and the 
skirmishers wlu) le.ul the .uK-.mce iliulge for shelter from tree to tree, 
firing as the\- go. Then a little gr.i\e\-.u\l is entered, aiul the head- 
stones shelter the men from the enemx's bullets and serve for handy 
rests for their rifles. When the line has passed that little cemetery 
there are lu-arly as man\- de.ul above its green sod as below. 

Before the persistent .uh'.mce of the Union lines the Confederates 
f.ill back, fust setting the torch to Mumma's house and leaving a blaz- 
ing and nu'l.mcholy monument of the miseries of war. A quarter of a 
mile to the south there is another rainwashed road. — l^looiiy Lane it is 
calleil to-il.i)-. — aiul there Hill's men t.d<e up their secoml position. 

The repe.ited aiul g.dl.mt assaults of the men of l-^ench's division 
upon the CiMifederates in this position, and the tenacity with which the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP 1-IRES. 73 



latter held their t^round, form one of the most gU)rious incidents of 
American miUtary annals. Even the historic corn-field, when the bat- 
tle was over, did not show so many dead as the narrow road in which 
the troops of D. IL Hill had stootl, and the s^round before it across 
which h'rench's regiments had chari;ed. ThouL;h the Confederates 
stood gallantly to await the shock, the final char^•e of the blue-clad 
Hne was too much for them, and they were forced back throuL,di the 
fields and down to the southward with the Federals in full chase. 
Meantime Richartlson has done as well in his assault upon Long- 
street, — driven him from a strong position, and i)ut his best soldiers to 
flight. Matters are looking serious for the southern ami}- now, and if 
McClellan should send a heavy detachment to widen the breach that 
Richardson and French are making, it would soon be all up with 
Lee. 

The Confederate leaders well knew how desperate was their strait. 
Lee was stripping his right wing of all available troops with which to 
strengthen his left. Jackson, Longstreet and Hill were everywhere. 
All sorts of expedients were resorted to, to cover up the weakness of 
the Confederate line. At one point which seemed to in\-ite attack the 
teamsters, cooks, and other undisciplined and unarmed camp-followers 
were formed in line, in the hope that the sight of so large a body of 
men would keep the Federals from choosing that particular point for 
an attack. At another point two guns of the Washington artillery 
alone held the I'ederals in check at a most critical position. The guns 
were worked by officers of Longstreet's staff, — for all the regular 
artillerymen had long since been shot down, — and that officer stood 
quietly near by holding the bridles of his staff officers' horses. A 
North Carolina regiment was drawn up to support the little batterv. 
and showed its colors boldly whenever the blue-coats showed signs 
of charging. And doubtless the battery would have been charged, 
and the Confederate center pierced, had the Union officers known that 
the regiment supporting the guns had in its cartridge-boxes not one 
single round of ammunition ! 



74 BATTLE FIELDS AND CA.MP TIRES. 

So on throui;h the hot forenoon of a southern September day 
the battle raged. The ground won b}- I-^vnch and Rieliardson, 
Longstreet strove to regain, but to no purpose. Trying to repeat 
tlie flanking maneuver whieh had resulted in the demohtion of Sedg- 
wick's corps, he sent a regiment around to gain the rear of Caldwell's 
brigade of Richardson's tli\ision. lUit as the regiment was stealthily 

proceeding on its way Col. Cross of the 5th New Hampshire caught 
sight of it, and instantly perceived its intention. Facing his regiment 
to the rear he started out on the double-quick to get first upon the 
ground that the Confederates were seeking. The gray-coats were 
ready enough for a race, and started off at a good pace. And so the 
two regiments went running along side by side, and keeping up a rat- 
tling fusilade, until the Federals gained the point of vantage first, and 
swinging into line beat their adversaries back. 

It is unnecessar)- to say more in detail of the fighting around the 
region of the Dunker church. By noon it was ended. It had been 
marked by magnificent displays of daring on the part of the assailants, 
and admirable tenacity on the jxirt of the Confederates. The blood- 
shed had been enormous. — as great, or greater, perhaps, in proportion 
to the numbers engaged, than that in any other battle of war. But 
when for the constant crash of the musketry and the shouts of charg- 
ing men, the comparative quiet of an intermittent cannonade was sub- 
stituted, the Confederates, though sorely shattered, were still unbeaten. 

About three-quarters of a mile southwest of the town of Sharps- 
burg, a stone bridge spanned the sullen current of the Antietam. Near 
its eastern end were groupcil the troops of Burnside's dixision. At its 
western end rows of Confederate guns posted on high hills, regiments 
of Confederate infantry behind stone walls, and scores of gray-clad skir- 
mishers lurking behind every stump fence or bowlder that promised 
shelter, held it closed against all comers. With their artillery and their 
infantry, the Confederates were prejxired to sweep the bridge clear of 
any northern troops who might venture to set foot thereon. 

It was about ten o'clock in the mornine that the order came from 






THE CHARGE AT PURNSIDE'S BRIDGE. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 77 

McCIellan to Burnside to cany the bridt^c. The staff officers who 
stood about the general shrugged their shoulders meaningly when they 
heard the order. A desperate commission it was indeed. First a 
long stretch of road on the river's bank, swept by the enemy's fire, had 
to be traversed, ami then the bridge itself, on which Longstreet could 
concentrate the fire of all the guns in the division. The lay of the 
Lmd on the side of the creek held by the Confederates was such that 
their artillery was perfectly protected. The batteries of Burnside's 
division could do nothing to clear the way for the advance of the 
storming party. The soldiers who were led to the conquest of the 
bridge had nothing to do but to push bravely forward through the piti- 
less hail of missiles, in the forlorn hope that when the bridge was 
crossed there would still be enough of them left alive to drive away 
the brigade of Toombs, that lay snugly sheltered under a hill awaiting 
the Federal attack. 

Since early morning Burnside had been feeling the enemy's posi- 
tion, and he well knew its strength. He had seen his columns, march- 
ing on the road by the side of the creek, melt away before the 
flanking fire of the Confederates across the ravine. He had shifted 
his batteries from place to place on the heights which he held, seek- 
ing some point whence he might train his guns upon Longstreet's 
batteries and Toombs's riflemen. But all had been in vain, and now 
that the peremptory order for the passage of the brigade had come, he 
knew that dogged persistence and reckless dash alone could effect it. 

To General Crook's brigade was first assigned the perilous task. 
Sturgis was to support Crook, and Rodman with his division was 
sent down the stream to look for a ford, and draw away the Con- 
federate defenders from the head of the bridge by threatening to 
cross below and take them in the flank. But Crook's forces proved 
unequal to the task. No sooner had they appeared in the road 
than there burst upon him so fierce a fire from the enemy's cannon 
and muskets that he was fain to cease his advance, seek protection 
behind stone walls and fences, and respond to the attack as well as he 



78 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

could. Sturgis then, seeing that Crook's advance was checked, sent 
forward as a forlorn hope the Second Maryland and the Sixth New 
Hampshire regiments. With fixed bayonets the little band started off 
at the double-quick. On it fell the withering fire from the enemy's 
guns. For a time it seemed as though the unfaltering courage of 
rhese troops would carry them to the goal, but the high hopes of the 
Union ol^cers watching the charge were destined to be shattered. 
Great gaps appeared in the column, there was a moment of waver- 
ing, of indecision, and the line began to go to pieces. Rallied by their 
officers and again started forward, the men again gave way. A third 
futile effort was made, and then the shattered columns were dispersed 
to form no more that day. 

"The bridge must be carried at any cost. At whatever sacrifice 
of human life, we must get possession of the other side." Such 
was the order Burnside sent to Sturgis, and that officer prepared 'for a 
second assault. 

New York and Pennsylvania troops, the 51st Regiment from each 
State, were chosen this time. They received powerful assistance from 
two guns Avhich Crook had posted so as to bear on the enemy. For- 
ward in double columns of fours, eight men to the front, the blue-coats 
charged. The enemy's guns made woful ha\oc in their ranks, but 
they kept on. The bridge was reached, and there the pelting storm 
of missiles was most tempestuous. Yet on through it all they pressed, 
leaving hundreds dead and wounded in their path, until the bridge was 
passed, and in a sheltering line of woods a moment of rest could be 
taken. It had cost 500 men to take the bridge; 200 of them then lay 
dead in the path over which the victorious band has passed, but with 
the way once cleared the rest of Burnsidc's forces quickly followed, 
until by two o'clock the greater part of the Ninth Corps had crossed 
the creek and was pressing hotl\- upon Longstrect's lines, and threaten- 
ing to break through and take the town of Sharpsburg. In the very 
nick of time, however, for the Confederates, A. P. Hill with 2000 men 
arrrived from Harper's Ferry. Though wearied by his long march he 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 79 

plunged valiantly into the fight. This accession of fresh force invig- • 
crated the Confederates and struck consternation into the hearts of the 
Federals. Burnside's men were pressed back, relinquishing most of the 
ground they had gained. Frantic orders from McClellan kept them 
from recrossing the creek, but it was only on its banks that they 
halted. And so, when the sun went down, the men of Longstreet's 
division had won again most of the ground that had been wrested 
from them. 

That night Lee and McClellan agreed upon an armistice, that the 
surgeons might go about the field and administer to the needs of the 
wounded. The rumble of the ambulance and the groans of the suffer- 
ers replaced the roar of battle. When morning came the strife was 
not renewed. The Confederates held their lines, alert, watchful, ex- 
pecting every moment the shock of the Federal assault. But McClellan 
loitered in his tent. No advance w^as ordered. The shattered ranks 
of Lee's regiments, which could hardly have withstood another blow, 
were left unmolested. And when night came again Lee robbed Mc- 
Clellan of a possible overwhelming triumph by making one of those 
quick and orderly retreats for which the Confederates afterward became 
famous. Under cover of the darkness he withdrew his entire army 
across the Potomac, and when morning dawned McClellan's pickets 
saw in the fields before them no sign of life. Not a gray uniform, 
a cannon, a flag, or a wagon was to be seen. McClellan had allowed 
Lee to slip through his fingers, and the best opportunity the war had 
yet presented for crushing the Confederacy's greatest army was lost. 

So ended the battle of the Antietam, or as the Confederates call 
it, the battle of Sharpsburg. It had been a hard-fought field. In 
deeds of gallantry each side vied with the other. The total force 
under Lee's command was scarcely one-half as great as the Union 
forces, but General McClellan's policy of sending in his divisions to a 
attack one after the other, instead of descending upon the enemy with 
all his overwhelming force, had greatly reduced the odds against the 
wearers of the gray. On both sides the loss was heavy. McClellan's 



80 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



report fixed the L^nion loss at 12,469, of wlioni 2010 were killed, 9416 
wounded, and 1043 niissing. The exact loss of the Confederates is 
unknown, but it probably differed but little from that of the Union 
forces. In his report General McClcllan states that 2700 of the ene- 
my's dead A\ere buried after the battle by the Federal soldiers. 

Who were then the victors in this desperate and bloody battle? 

So far as the immediate results of the fighting on the 17th were 
concerned, there could be no good claim' to victory set up b}' either 
side. The Federals acted upon the offensive, but they certainly made 
no inroads of any serious extent u[)on the enemy's position. The 
Confederates, in their turn, had not repelled the attack all along the 
line, and were certainly too much weakened by the day's fighting to 
rightfully claim that they were victorious. When the sun set that 
night it put an end to a drawn battle. 

Hut, as a historian of this campaign has well said, "for an invading 
army, a drawn battle is little less than a lost battle." So particularly 
was it in this case, for after confronting McClcllan for one day, Lee 
abandoned the field and took his army out of Maryland again. The 
cherished plan for carrying the war into the Northern States had failed, 
and we shall soon see the tide of war sweeping back and forth again 
across the fields and through the forests of the Old Dominion. 





CHAPTER IV. 

THE WAR IN THE WEST. — HALLECK's SIEGE OF CORINTH.* — FORREST S RAID 

ON MURFREESBORO'. THE CONFEDERATES CAPTURE CHATTANOOGA. 

BRAGG's INVASION OF KENTUCKY. BATTLE OF RICHMOND. PANIC IN 

CINCINNATI. BATTLE OF MUNFORDSVILLE. BATTLE OF PKRRYVILLE. 

BRAGG ABANDONS KENTUCKY. BATTLE OF lUKA. — BATTLE OF CORINTH, 




ET US now turn again to the theater of war in the west, 
and see how the combatants were faring there while Mc- 
Clellan and Lee were battHng upon the debatable ground 
between Wasliington and Richmond. 

Readers of the first vohime of this series * will recollect that 
after the battle of Shiloh the victorious Union forces moved southward 
in pursuit of the Confederates, who took refuge at Corinth. The 
extensive and formidable earthworks with which the Confederates had 
surrounded this town in anticipation of just such a contingency, 
effectually checked the Union advance. To drive the enemy from 
these works, General Halleck began a regular siege. 

For nearly thirty days the men of Halleck's army worked in the 
trenches, throwing up parallels, building roads and regular approaches. 
The pick and the shovel took the place of the sword and the musket. 
Occasional skirmishes there were, — sharp encounters \\hich in a war of 
less colossal proportions would have been reckoned notable battles. 



* Battle Fields of '6i, by Willis J. Abbot. Dodd, Mead & Company, New York, 1889. 

81 



82 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

But the Union general had ordered his officers not to bring on a gen- 
eral engagement, while Beauregard for his part was not anxious for a 
battle, but was preparing to retreat. 

It was toward the latter part of May that General Grant, who was 
second in command to Halleck and much underestimated and ignored 
by that commander, began to suspect that the enemy was getting out 
of Corinth with all the celerity possible. The rumble of trains enter- 
ing and leaving the town was heard constantly, and experienced rail- 
road men in the Union army declared that the noise indicated that in- 
coming trains were empty, and the outgoing ones full. Somewhat puz- 
zled they were by the loud cheers that greeted the arri\'al of each in- 
coming train, as if the Confederates were being reenforced. But when 
on the 30th of May the victorious blue-coats marched unmolested into 
the enemy's works and found them untenanted, they learned that the 
cheering w^as but a ruse of the wily enemy, who had fled bag and bag- 
gage, leaving not a sick man, a gun or a flag as a trophy for the cap- 
tors of Corinth. 

The next two months were spent by the troops in surrounding the 
place with a system of earthworks so vast that an army of 100,000 men 
could scarce man them. The Confederates meantime had gone but 
fifty miles further south, and there were recruiting their army and pre- 
paring for a vigorous campaign. Some skirmishing there was, and 
some raiding by the daring cavalry leaders of the South, but the former 
had no bearing upon the fortunes of the campaign, while the latter, 
Avith other exploits of the cavalry rangers and partisans of the South, 
will receive attention in a later chapter. 

. After two months spent in recuperation the Confederates in the 
west determined to take the offensive. Kentucky was to them A\hat 
Maryland was to their brethren in the east, — a State in the possession 
of their enemies, but in which they might fairly hope to find thousands 
of sympathizers with their cause. Many Kentuckians visited General 
Bragg, who had succeeded to Beauregard's command, at his headquar- 
ters at Tupelo, and urged upon him the wisdom of an invasion of 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 83 



Kentucky. The State was with the South, they said, and it was only 
necessary for the Confederacy to make a show of its strength within 
its borders for Kentucky to cast its lot with the States that had de- 
clared for secession. Bragg lent a willing ear to these representa- 
tions,— the more willing because he knew that Halieck had been called 
to Washington and was rapidly tearing to pieces the army which he 
had left under Grant. 

One bit of Confederate cavalry service is worth attention here. 
At Murfreesboro, Tennessee, was a brigade of Union troops : two re<n- 
mcnts of infantry, a company of cavalry and a small battery. The 
ofificers were at odds with each other, and had chosen to show their 
enmity for each other by encamping their forces so far apart that 
united action was impossible and an attack was fairly invited. Earnest 
friends living about Murfreesboro brought early news of this to the 
Confederate commander, and Col. Forrest with his cavalrymen swooped 
down upon the luckless blue-coats. The Federals were fairly caught 
napping. Watchful negroes had brought them the report that "Massa 
Forrest" was coming with a big army, but, occupied with their own 
petty quarrels, the Union ofificers had given no heed to the warning. 

Early dawn of the 13th of July saw the woods about Murfrees- 
boro swarming with cavalry troopers in gray. Stealthily they crept 
upon the Union pickets, and with a sudden rush overcame them be- 
fore any alarm could be given. Only when the Confederates, with 
fierce yells and a prodigious clatter of hoofs upon the turnpike, came 
charging into the Union camp, did the soldiers there sleeping in their 
tents know of the blow that had fallen upon them. Then it was too 
late. Gen. Crittenden, in command of one Union regiment, was fairly 
captured in his bed. Col. Duffield, who at the first fire had sprung 
from his couch and rushed to rally his men, was shot down before his 
efforts were of any avail. Left thus to their individual judgment, the 
soldiers fought as skirmishers from behind fences and trees and houses. 
Some sixty or more took possession of the court house, and stubbornly 
resisted the attacks of the Confederates until the street before the 



84 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

building was dotted with many a dead body clothed in gray. But 
when this little band was dislodged from its stronghold, the assailants 
encountered no further serious resistance. The Minnesota regiment 
under Col. Lester, which was encamped at some distance from the 
Michigan regiment first attacked, made scarcely a pretense of showing 
fight. "The men were well armed, well disciplined, and were eager to 
fight," wrote an eye-witness to a Northern newspaper, "but their colo- 
nel faltered and dared not lead them on to victory." 

And so, between the dissensions of the Union officers before the 
battle, and the cowardice of one of them after the shots began to fly, 
the Confederate cavalry had an easy task in depriving the North of 
the services of 1700 men, 600 horses, 4 cannon, and nearly a million 
dollars' worth of supplies. 

"Few more disgraceful examples of neglect of duty and lack of 
good conduct can be found in the history of wars," said General Ikiell 
in an official address to his army on hearing the news. 

Six weeks passed by. To Bragg's camp at Tupelo recruits were 
coming from all parts of the Confederacy. From Texas came rangers, 
long-haired, uncouth in dress and actions, but daring cavalrymen withal. 
From Missouri came long, lank, sallow, ungainly backwoodsmen, intract- 
able and undisciplined, but keen-sighted and sure shots with the long 
muzzle-loading rifles that they carried. From Louisiana, Mississippi, 
Alabama and even the Atlantic States came reenforcements. The 
whole seaboard of the Confederacy was stripped that Bragg might have 
a great army to lead into Kentucky. 

Grant's army, meanwhile, was being systematically weakened. 
From Washington, Halleck ordered that brigade after brigade should be 
detached upon some special service, until at last Grant found himself in 
danger of being left without men enough to defend his earthworks. A 
very large detachment was sent under command of General Buell to 
capture Chattanooga, and news of this movement coming promptly to 
the ears of General Bragg, he determined to forestall the Federals by 
seizing that city himself, for it was an important railway center, and of 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 85 

such military importance as to make quick and decisive action by 
either army most desirable. 

It was only the old story repeated again. The Union troops 
march on deliberately. Buell's orders direct him to repair the rail- 
road as he goes along, and he stops to do so. The Confederates 
find it an easy task to march around Buell, and get to Chattanooga 
first. Long before Buell gets to the goal the city is in the hands of 
the Confederates, who make it their base of operations for the inva- 
sion of Kentucky. Bragg splits his army into two parts. One under 
General Kirby Smith marches away to the northward through eastern 
Tennessee and Kentucky, while the other division under the personal 
command of Bragg himself keeps farther to the westward. 

It was late in August when Kirby Smith's long columns of Con- 
federate veterans emerged from behind the shelter of the Cumberland 
mountains, and after threading the tortuous defiles of Cumberland Gap 
struck out toward the northwest. They had before them almost a 
clear pathway to the Ohio river, Buell was far to the westward, and 
could not hope to intercept them, and to add to his perplexity the 
daring Confederate partisan John Morgan was raiding about Tennes- 
see, cutting railroads, burning bridges, and completely concealing from 
Buell the location and the plans of the invaders. 

At one point only did a Union force block the advance of Smith's 
columns. General Nelson, who commanded in eastern Kentucky, had 
a few thousand troops, mostly raw recruits just mustered in, stationed 
about Richmond, some twenty miles from Lexington, General Man- 
son was in command, Nelson himself remaining at Lexington, On 
the 30th of August, the Confederates swooped down upon this force, 
outnumbering the blue-coats nearly two to one. The Union out- 
posts were driven in, and the assailants followed swiftly after. Smith 
had other divisions some miles in the rear, but he went in, hammer 
and tongs, without awaiting their arrival. Outnumbered, undisciplined 
and badly commanded, the Federals were thrown into confusion. 
There were deeds of gallantry, and deeds of black cowardice. Many 



86 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

an officer was shot down while leading a desperate charge, and the 
ne\\six\per reports of the battle tell of more than one shoulder-straiiped 
poltroon who ingloriously ran away, leaving his men to lead themselves. 
Toward noon there was a lull in the conflict. The rattle of musketry 
ceased. The thunder of the cannonade gave place to an occasional 
sullen roar from some battery that was shelling a suspicious clump of 
woods. Men had time to look about them, to give aid to the 
wounded, to talk of the poor fellows who had been sent out of the 
world by the enemy's bullets, and to wonder whose turn it would be 
next. *<y^ 

At this moment General kelson appeared among the Union troops. 
News of the battle had reached him at Lexington, and he had has- 
tened to the field. He found his men routed, disheartened, half 
beaten already. "I know you are new at this business, boys," he 
said. "I'll show you how to whip the scamps." Up and down the 
lines he went, doing his best to instill new confidence and courage into 
the minds of his troops. Soon the storm of war burst again, and 
men fell thick and fast before the flying missiles. Nelson was in the 
thick of the fight. A man of colossal stature, he rode along the 
lines waving his hat and shouting: 

"Boys, if they can't hit me, they can't hit a barn door." 

But a stray shot soon brought him to the ground badly wounded, 
and his men fell back in hopeless rout before the advance of the 
victorious Confederates. After Nelson's fall the Union forces oiTered 
no more resistance. Every man for himself, was the cry. All sem- 
blance of military formation was lost. Scattering in all directions, the 
blue-coats fled before the foe, who followed in such hot pursuit that 
many a Northern soldier bit the dust during that disastrous retreat. 
Over three thousand prisoners rewarded the Confederates for their prow- 
ess that day, and in killed and wounded the Federals lost 900 more. 
The total Confederate loss was 790. 

Had Jackson then been in Kirby Smith's place, there would have 
been dark days for the Union cause in the northwest. There Avas 




THE SURPRISE AT RICHMOND. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 89 



now no hostile army in his path. The roads to Louisville and to 
Cincinnati lay open before him. It was a moment for audacity. A 
quick dash upon Cincinnati, the seizure of the city, the destruction of 
the railroads running east and west therefrom,— such a triumphant 
invasion of Northern soil would have been invaluable to the Confed- 
erate cause just at that time. But Kirby Smith lacked the quality 
of dash. His soldiers were not trained to make forced marches. He 
dared not forsake his base of supplies and his lines of communication 
as Jackson often did. And so, instead of pressing right on to the 
Ohio river, he halted at Lexington to recruit his army from young 
Kentuckians who thought the star of the Confederacy was in the ascen- 
dency. It was over two weeks before he led his army near enough 
Cincinnati to seriously threaten that city. 

When General Kirby Smith annihilated General Nelson's force of 
new recruits at Richmond, Cincinnati was practically defenseless. But 
•When, after his deliberate march northward. Smith was ready to attack 
the city, it was defended by works of no mean strength. A man 
whose name in later days is better known for his work with the pen 
than his exploits with the sword, had wrought the change. This was 
General Lewis Wallace. 

The news of the Confederate victory at Richmond had scarcely 
reached Cincinnati when Wallace began putting the place in condition 
to resist a siege. He put the city under martial law, closed the busi- 
ness houses, and ordered all able-bodied male citizens to assemble on 
the Kentucky side of the Ohio river to work in the trenches. "Citi- 
zens for labor, soldiers for battle," was the rule of action by which he 
was guided, and for ten days citizens of every station worked with pick 
and shovel, throwing up fortifications on the high hills that skirt the 
southern bank of the river. Militia companies from all adjoining 
States, and thousands of unattached and undisciplined riflemen, flocked 
to the scene, and the citizens, seeing so many willing volunteers for the 
battle, did not seek to shirk the labor. Some doubters there were, as 
there are everywhere. 



90 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



"If the enemy does not come after all this fuss," said one of them 
to the General, "you will be ruined." 

"Very well," was his reply, "but they will come. And if they 
do not it will be because this same fuss has caused them to think 
better of it." 

But the enemy did come. They came near enough at any rate 
to make it clear to the people of Cincinnati that their work of prepara- 
tion had not been unnecessary; near enough for Kirby Smith to learn 
from his scout that the city was guarded by a line of frowning breast- 
works ten miles long, with plenty of cannon and seemingly plenty of 
men to defend them. On learning this, Kirby Smith halted, remained 
in position a few miles from Cincinnati for several days, and then fell 
back to join Bragg, who had entered Frankfort. 

General Bragg on his part had marched across Tennessee, and 
nearly to the northern boundary of Kentucky, almost without firing a 
shot. Buell had raced with him the whole way, straining every nerve 
either to catch him and give him battle, or to reach Louisville before 
him. But the two armies did not clash, and as Bragg had the shorter 
route to travel, he only failed to capture Louisville because, like Kirby 
Smith, he neglected to seize a golden opportunity. 

It was on the 20th of August that Bragg's column left Chatta- 
nooga, and after painfully scaling the heights of Walden's ridge, made 
a bee line straight away to Louisville, nearly four hundred miles off to 
the northwest. The cavalry squadrons of Forrest and Chalmers went 
raiding along on the left flank of the Confederate column, burning 
bridges, tearing up railroads, and effectually keeping the news of 
Bragg's movement from reaching the ears of Buell. Not until the 30th 
of the month did Buell learn the plans of his enemy, and then it 
was by a lucky chance that threw one of Bragg's dispatch-bearers 
into his hands. Then he set out in hot pursuit. 

At Munfordsville, a little village on the railway leading to Louis- 
ville, Bragg found a small fort defended by a few hundred Union sol- 
diers. The Confederate advance under Chalmers promptly attacked, but 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. Ul 



was beaten back with heavy loss. Early the next morning Chalmers 
made a demand for the surrender of the fort, but Col. Dunham stoutly 
refused. Thereupon the Confederates disappeared, and were seen no 
more for two days, when they suddenly returned to the field and made 
another unsuccessful attack. But, elated though the Union defenders 
were with their success, they saw all hope of final victory vanish when 
Bragg's powerful army appeared, coming to the aid of the slender force 
that had hitherto held the field alone. Matters then began to look 
desperate for the garrison, and Col. Dunham telegraphed to Louisville 
that he feared a surrender would be inevitable. Quick as the elec- 
tric spark could flash came back an order for him to turn over the 
command to his junior officer. Col. Wilder. But Wilder himself saw 
no hope of a successful defense, and when Bragg sent a summons to 
surrender he was ready enough to parley. Bragg's summons told of 
his overwhelming force, and deplored any further shedding of blood. 
Wilder in his turn declared that if he could once be satisfied that 
resistance would be useless, he would resist no longer. Takino- him 
at his word the Confederates sent a detail to escort him into their 
lines, where he saw 25,000 men drawn up ready for the assault, and 
with 45 cannon to support the attack. The fort was surrendered with- 
out more ado, all honors of war being paid to the capitulating garrison. 

This was on the morning of the 17th of September. At that 
very hour, hundreds of miles away to the eastward, cannon were roar- 
ing and men falling on the bloody field of Antietam. It was a 
colossal struggle, and the extent of the theater of war was prodigious. 

The stubborn resistance encountered at Munfordsville had detained 
Bragg for two days. It hardly seems probable that he ever intended 
to push on to Louisville, else he would not have stopped at so 
critical a moment to capture an unimportant post. At any rate, after 
the fort had been taken there was still time for the Confederates to 
march upon the great Kentucky city. Buell was coming up fast in 
the rear, but was not near enough to offer battle. The game was all 
in Bragg's hands. 



92 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



But like Kirby Smith after the battle of Richmond, Bragg failed 
to seize upon his opportunity. Instead of pressing on to Louisville, 
he turned aside. At a little place called Prewitt's Knob he waited 
for Buell to come up. There the two armies maneuvered in full view 
of each other for two days; each inviting an attack and neither mak- 
ing one. Then Bragg took up the march again and led his army to 
Frankfort, the capital of the State, where he proposed to go through 
the empty form of inaugurating a secessionist governor for a State 
that had never seceded. Buell thereupon marched with alacrity to 
Louisville, there to re-equip his army, and take up the task of driv- 
ing Bragg back to Alabama whence he came. 

It is unnecessary for us to concern ourselves with the rather far- 
cical proceedings at Frankfort, where on the 4th of October the Hon. 
Richard Hawes was inaugurated as governor with great pomp and 
ceremony, and six hours later fled in a panic from the city before 
the Union cavalry which was in advance of Buell's army coming out 
of Louisville to give battle to Bragg. l^ut though the stay of the 
Confederate army at Frankfort was brief, it was long enough to con- 
vince the Confederate leaders that there was little sympathy for their 
cause in Kentucky. "We are sadly disappointed in the want of 
action by our friends in Kentucky," wrote Bragg to the Confederate 
government. "Unless a change occurs soon we must abandon the gar- 
den spot of Kentucky." And Kirby Smith added his testimony, 
writing : "The Kentuckians are slow and backward in rallying to our 
standard. Their hearts are evidently with us, but their blue grass and 
fat cattle are against us." 

So it was. Kentucky was too prosperous to wish for war. 

October 7 saw the hostile armies confronting each other near Per- 
ryville. For some days there had been skirmishing between the rear- 
guard of the retiring Confederate army and the advance guard of the 
Federals. So closely were the latter pressing upon the rear of Bragg's 
column that it became necessary for the latter to halt and strike a 
blow which should check the pursuit and give him time to gather 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 93 

too-ether his troops and his wagons, heavy-laden with suppHes from 
fertile Kentucky, preparatory to abandoning the State. For Bragg had 
already discovered that so far as getting recruits for the southern 
armies or bringing the State into the Confederacy was concerned, the 
invasion of Kentucky was a failure. 

It was at Perryville that Bragg turned to strike back the foe that 
followed so persistently upon his heels. In that region the hot days 
of summer and the early autumn had caused a drought which dried up 
streams and rivulets, and made the question of securing water for the 
use of the Union army a serious one. At Perryville were some large 
springs, and it was about these that General Polk, who was in com- 
mand of the Confederate army while Bragg was at Frankfort, massed 
his army. 

About two o'clock in the afternoon of the 7th, reports from the 
Confederate picket lines indicated that the Federals were coming up. 
It was McCook's brigade of Sheridan's division that first appeared. 
The soldiers had been marching all day under a broiling sun, over 
dusty roads, and without a drop of water to cool their parched 
throats. They wanted water, and were ready to fight for it. In 
front of the Confederate lines was the channel of Doctor's creek, a 
little stream then nearly dried up, but with a few pools of muddy 
water standing in its bed. McCook sends out his skirmishers. They 
advance, exchange shots with the Confederate pickets, press on and 
fill their canteens at the stagnant pools. Others follow, and the Con- 
federates, not wishing to bring on a general battle, withdraw. Bad 
though the water thus gained was, it was dearly prized. A Union 
staff officer relates that, being wearied of making his toilet with a dry 
rub, he proposed to use a dipper full of the w^ater on his face, when 
General Buell, who had noticed his preparations, interposed, ordering 
him to pour it back into his canteen and keep it for an emergency. 

Beyond a little rifle practice along the picket lines and some long 
range duels with the big guns, there was no fighting that day. Buell 
thought he had the whole of Bragg's army before him, and was cau- 



94 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



tious about bringing on an engagement, when by throwing in his 
whole force he might have swept the enemy from his path. 

In the morning the Confederates take the offensive. Cheatham's 
division on their extreme right moves out and falls wdth terrific force 
on Terrill's brigade of Jackson's division. The Federal troops are 
raw, untrained soldiers. So far from expecting an assault from the 
enemy, they were preparing to make one themselves. The fury of 
Cheatham's assault, the ferocity of the "rebel yell," then heard by 
them for the first time, and the sight of their comrades falling on all 
sides, was too much for them. After one volley they broke and fled. 
At the very first fire General Jackson was killed. General Terrill 
soon afterward fell while bravely trying to rally his troops. The 
Confederates pushed on mercilessly, and the left of the Union line 
was thus thrown into hopeless rout at the very beginning of the bat- 
tle. Nine guns from Parson's battery fell into the hands of the as- 
sailants, who turned them on the Union lines with fatal effect. Par- 
sons himself had fallen ere his guns were taken. Revolver and sword 
in hand he stood by his guns, though his raw infantry supports went 
to pieces before the enemy's onslaught. Only w^ien one of his men 
dragged him forcibly away would he leave his post, and as he retired 
a chance shot struck him. He lived, though, to fight through the 
war, and when the days of blood were over to enter the more peace- 
ful service of the church. 

By this time the battle was raging all along the lines. The can- 
non roared from every commanding hill, and the rattle of musketry 
was incessant. The combatants fought at close quarters, face to face 
with no sheltering breastworks or friendly stone wall to ward off the 
storm of bullets. In the fields the regiments of infantry were charg- 
ing. From the neighboring clumps of woods the great guns were 
hurling their spiteful messages. Everywhere were wounded men, lying 
helpless on the ground or staggering to the rear to seek the aid of 
surgeons. 

General Polk, who was actively engaged throughout the battle, had 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 95 



an adventure that nearly cost him his hfe, or at least his liberty. 
One of Bragg's staff officers thus tells the story in the Century: 

"About dark, Polk, convinced that some Confederate troops were 
firino- into each other, cantered up to the colonel of the regiment that 
was firing and asked him angrily what he meant by shooting his own 
friends. The colonel, in a tone of surprise, said : 

" T don't think there can be any mistake about it. I am sure 
they are the enemy.' 

"'Enemy! Why, I have just left them myself. Cease firing, sir. 
What is your name?' rejoined the Confederate general. 

"T am Colonel of the Indiana. And pray, sir, who are 

you?' 

"Thus made aware that he was with a Federal regiment and 
that his only escape was to brazen it out, his dark blouse and the 
increasing obscurity happily befriending him, the Confederate general 
shook his fist in the Federal colonel's face and promptly said : 

" ' I will show you who I am, sir. Cease firing at once.' 

"Then cantering down the line again he shouted authoritatively 
to the men, 'Cease firing!' Then reaching the cover of a small 
copse, he spurred his horse and was soon back with his own corps, 
which he immediately ordered to open fire." 

Successes were won and reverses sustained by both sides. The 
Confederate right had the battle all its own way; sweeping Rousseau 
away before it, capturing men and flags. To offset this the Union 
right was equally successful later in the day. There Sheridan com- 
manded — the same gallant soldier who a year or two later won a 
fame only second to that of Grant. He saw a chance to deal the 
enemy a stinging blow, and, without waiting for orders from Buell, 
pushed his division forward, drove back the enemy, capturing many 
men and some wagons and artillery caissons. Gilbert too won laurels 
for the blue by a gallant advance made without orders. Buell was 
several miles away, and did not know that the battle was raging until 
it was over. The lay of the ground, or perhaps some peculiar 



96 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

atmospheric conditions, kept from his ears the sound of the musketry. 
The roaring of the cannon he heard, but thought it was but an artil- 
lery duel at long range, — a harmless kind of fighting to which both 
armies were much given in the earlier days of the war. 

So when darkness descending put an end to the fray, the honors 
of battle were equally divided. Sheridan had beaten the enemy 
directly in his front, but so too had Cheatham, on the part of the Con- 
federates. And while the Confederates had failed in their purpose of 
annihilating McCook's division before the rest of the Union army 
could come to his assistance, the Federals in their turn had failed to 
seize their opportunity to crush Bragg's army then and there,— a task 
that would have been sufificiently easy had Bucll but known of the 
battle that was going on within his very lines, and led into action the 
half of his army that stayed idle in its camp throughout the whole battle. 

That night the pickets of the hostile armies could hear each other's 
steps as they cautiously moved through the woods. The most watch- 
ful vicilance was observed, for all thought that the morrow would wit- 
ness a renewal of the fight. The dead and wounded lay thick upon 
the ground, for the battle had been fiercely fought and the casualties w^ere 
heavy in proportion to the numbers engaged. General Buell reported 
a loss of 4340 men, of whom 916 were killed and 2943 wounded. Gen- 
eral Bragg reported the total Confederate loss as being about 2500, 
but it is hard to believe this estimate not too low, for the Confederates 
were the assailants and should naturally have suffered most. 

When morning dawned the Confederate pickets were still at their 
posts, but there seemed to be no signs of the battle beginning again. 
Soon they began to disappear, and the blue-coated skirmishers, pushing 
cautiously forward to investigate, discovered that there was no enemy 
confronting them. The woods, which the night before had swarmed 
with men in butternut gray, were now empty. ' Only the dead and 
wounded scattered about told of the enemy's former presence, and 
bore testimony, too, that his flight had been a hurried one, for he 
had left these victims of the battle behind. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 97 

The withdrawal from the field of Perryville marked the beginning 
of Bragg's retreat from Kentucky. He took his army first to Harrods- 
burg, where Kirby Smith joined him. The Confederates had learned 
by this time that their presence in the State created no great enthu- 
siasm. They were received with indifference, and often with open hos- 
tility. No recruits flocked to their banners. The golden dreams in 
which they had seen Kentucky rising as one man to welcome the 
bearers of the Stars and Bars had faded. They were now in a parched 
and impoverished part of the State, which could not long sustain their 
army. Their way to the more fertile region was blocked by Buell, 
the temper of whose army they had tested at Perryville. All agreed 
that there remained no course open save to abandon the State. 

Nevertheless the invasion of Kentucky had been in no sense a 
failure. The Federals had been pushed back again to the Ohio river, 
the line they held when Grant made his expedition against Fort 
Henry. Cincinnati and Louisville had been threatened, and the world 
shown that there was vitality and power in the Confederate armies 
in the Avest. 

Nor in leaving Kentucky did Bragg go empty-handed. His for- 
agers had been active, and the fertile fields, the pastures dotted 
with grazing cattle, the village stores with well-filled shelves, had all 
suffered from their visits. All the plunder was sent in advance of 
the army to the southward. Thousands of beef cattle, horses, sheep 
and swine were driven along by reckless Texans. An interminable 
train of wagons, heavy laden with all conceivable articles, followed. 
"The wagon train of supplies," said a writer in the Richmond Exajn- 
incr, possibly with some exaggeration, "was fort}' miles long, and 
brought a million of yards of jeans, with a large amount of clothing, 
boots and shoes, and two hundred wagon loads of bacon, 6000 barrels 
of pork, 1500 mules and horses and a large lot of swine." 

Said the Lexington Observer: "For four weeks while the Confed- 
erates were in tlie \icinity of Lexington, a train of cars was running 
daily southward, carrying some property taken from the inhabitants, and 



98 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

at the same time huge wagon trains were continually moving for 
the same purpose." 

And so, heavy laden with supplies of inestimable value to the 
already sorely straitened Confederacy, Bragg made his exit from Ken- 
tucky via Cumberland Gap. Through those narrow and tortuous de- 
files Buell's army could not follow him with any hope of a success- 
ful pursuit, and the Federals therefore turned their steps toward Nash- 
ville. Thus a few weeks after the bloody encounter at Pcrryville the 
hostile armies turned their backs upon each other and took diverse 
paths, but only to clash again at a later date upon a field of battle 
far removed from the former one. 

While Bragg had thus led his army into Kentucky and out again, 
the soldiers of the Confederate army of the southwest, whom he had 
left at Tupelo under command of Van Dorn and Price, had had their 
fill of fighting. 

Van Dorn's army mustered some 1 6,000 men, and was scattered 
along the railroad from Holly Springs to Vicksburg, Price's troops, 
about equal in numbers, were concentrated at Tupelo. The com- 
mands were independent, but the two commanders were expected to 
co-operate cordially in discharging their prime duty, — preventing Grant 
from sending any reinforcements north to the aid of Buell in his 
struggle with Bragg for the possession of Kentucky. 

Confronting the two Confederate generals was General Grant, with 
his headquarters at Corinth. He had under his command about 50,000 
men, scattered between Memphis, Corinth, and Jackson. He for his 
part was on the watch to see that Price did not slip past him, and 
make for Kentucky, there to join Bragg's army of invasion. 

P"or a time the two adversaries warily watched each other at a 
safe distance. Price moved first. Wishing to harass Grant as well 
as to get information from his rear, he sent out Armstrong with a 
cavalry troop 3700 strong to raid Bolivar, where some Federal troops 
were stationed. Armstrong laid his plans to surprise his antagonists^ 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 99 

but found them on the alert. A battle followed in which the 
Union troops, though greatly outnumbered, more than held their own. 
Armstrong returned by a devious route without having accomplished 
anything of moment. 

Not far from Corinth, on a line of railroad running east and west, 
is the little village of luka. Clear springs strongly impregnated with 
health-giving qualities bubble up from the ground beneath the shady 
canopy of a magnificent grove. Before the war it was a notable sum- 
mer resort for the South, and a large tavern with spacious verandas 
and luxurious appointments was much frequented by the planters and 
neighboring gentry. Price thought luka a good place to hold. Its 
situation was such that he could make a descent upon Corinth or 
move off into Tennessee with equal ease. Accordingly he immedi- 
ately transferred his army thither from Tupelo, ousting without a strug- 
gle the few Federal troops who were enjoying the salubrious air 
and pleasant waters of the little resort. The Federal officer in com- 
mand on retreating neglected to destroy a large quantity of medical 
stores, provisions, and the like, so that the Confederates were able to 
revel in luxuries long unenjoyed, during the few hours they were left 
undisturbed. 

Grant had not been napping during this time. Price's skirmishers 
had hardly entered luka before Grant, at Corinth, knew of it and was 
devising means to expel the Confederates from the point of vantage 
they had gained. He determined not only to recapture luka, but to 
get Price between two heavy detachments of Federals and grind him 
to atoms. Price had about 14,000 effective men in luka. Suppos- 
ing him to be defeated, there were but two roads by which he could 
save the shattered remnant of his army — the Fulton road and the 
Jacinto road, both running south and almost parallel. Grant's plan 
of attack was to send Rosecrans with 9000 men to attack the enemy 
from the south, covering both these roads. Ord meantime, with 8000 
men, was to fall upon him from the northwest. Thus beleaguered 
front and rear. Price would be brayed as in a mortar. "It looked 



lUU BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



to mc that if Price would remain in luka until we could get there, 
his annihilation was inevitable," wrote Grant in his memoirs. 

But unforeseen accidents sometimes defeat the most carefully 
formulated plans. Price had entered luka on Sept. 13. On the 
iSth the blue-coats who were to destroy him began operations. Ord 
went down the railroad to Burnsville, there left the cars, and took up 
the march. He proceeded to within two miles of luka, beat off the 
enemy's skirmishers, entrenched himself and waited for daylight, when 
he expected to begin the attack. Meantime Rosecrans was march- 
ing across country some miles to the south, seeking to get into a 
like advantageous position and be ready to join in the attack early in 
the morning. 

Grant remained midway between the two. Couriers mounted on 
fleet steeds kept him informed of the progress of each wing of his 
army. Reports came fast from the northern wing telling of Ord's 
rapid progress, but not until midnight did an aide come gallojoing, his 
horse weary and covered with mud, bringing tidings from Rosecrans. 
The roads over which his route lay were deep with mud, said Rose- 
crans, the streams he had to ford were swollen, his men were weary, 
and he l;ad only reached Jacinto. But, though fatigued with the 
wearisome march, his men would be able to reach luka by two 
o'clock next da}-. 

Though greatly disappointed at the failure of Rosecrans to carry 
out the movement as planned. Grant strove to make the best of it. 
That Rosecrans could reach luka in time to attack at two o'clock 
he did not believe possible. So not knowing at what time the south- 
ern wing of the army would be ready to attack, he sent word to Ord 
to wait until he should hear the thunder of Rosecrans's guns, and then 
fall upon the enemy, — an arrangement which was faulty in that an ad- 
verse wind might — and did — carry the sound of the cannonade directly 
away from Ord. 

Daylight saw Rosecrans's men rising from the damp ground, roll- 
ing up their blankets, getting coffee and making read}' for the tla}''s 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 101 

march. The sun was scarcely u[) before the cohiinn was trainpin<^ 
alont^ the muckly road. Rosecraiis rode at the head of the cohinin. 
He was determined to keep his promise to Grant and take his men 
into battle by two o'clock. 

One o'clock came. The cavalry troop in advance of the Union 
column suddenly came upon some mounted Confederates in the road, 
who gave a frightened glance at the sudden apparition, fired a few 
hasty shots, and galloped off. They were the Confederate outposts, 
and the news that the enemy was upon them was speedily carried to 
Price. The column of blue-coats swept steadily along the narrow 
road, which was flanked on either side by dense woods. A mile or 
.so nearer town, the side road branched off by which half of Rosc- 
crans's force was to cross over to the P^ulton road. Until that road 
should be reached the Federals had to march in column of fours 
along a narrow road, in a region where the enemy might at any mo- 
ment pounce down upon them. Though all knew that the foe could 
not be far distant, no attempt was made to deploy, and so the road 
for the space of nearly a mile was crowded with a long drawn-out 
column of infantry, artillery and cavalry. 

Seeing some suspicious signs in the woods ahead, Hamilton, who 
commanded the leading tlivision, pushed forward his skirmishers and 
rode close in their wake. Suddenly a shot from one of the skir- 
mishers drew such a thunderous volley from an enemy concealed in 
the woods that Hamilton speedily saw that he had stirred up the foe 
in force. Wheeling his horse, he galloped back to the head of his 
column. 

"Deploy your troops on both sides of the road and press for- 
ward," he cried to the regimental commanders. Three regiments 
were quickly put in line of battle. A battery was run into position 
on the right of the road, and responded with a will to the volleys of 
canister which the enemy was pouring into the P""ederal lines. Here, 
as in almost every battle of the war, the aim of the Union artillerists 
was the more effective. The enemy's shot "jjassed over our heads, 



102 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



doing no damage beyond bringing down a shower of twigs and 
leaves," wrote Gen. Hamilton some years later. 

But now the Confederate cannon cease their roaring. The gray 
lines are sweeping forward to the assault, and are in the direct line 
of fire. Had the charge come a little sooner the Federals would 
have been swept away, rolled back on the column in the road below, 
routed, annihilated. But the Confederates had failed to grasp their 
opportunity, and now Hamilton with a battle line of three regiments 
is ready. 

It is late in the afternoon, and the early autumn twilight is com- 
ing on. The Federals have the advantage of position, for their line of 
battle crowns the crest of a hill up which their assailants must charge. 
A battery of six guns — the nth Ohio — is on the right of the Union 
line, and sends murderous volleys of gra e into the faces of the advanc- 
ing foe. Fiercely the gunners wield spong; and rammer. Scarce half 
a minute passes without the flame spurting from the muzzle of one of 
the guns. The Confederates see that the battery must be taken, and 
turn toward it. Volley after volley comes from their ranks. Men and 
horses began to fall around the guns with alarming rapidity. The fire 
of the battery begins to slacken. There are no longer men enough to 
man it. "In less than a half an hour after the battle began," wrote a 
war correspondent that night to the Cincinnati Commercial, "seventy- 
two of the battery men were placed hors de combat, being either killed 
or wounded, and every horse was shot from the caissons." Seeing this 
the Confederates charge forward, shoot down the few artillerymen left 
at the guns, and capture the battery. But there is no way to take the 
captured guns out of the battle, which is growing fierce thereabouts 
as Hamilton rushes other regiments into action, so they are spiked. 
The roar of the artillery then is heard no longer, but the shouts of 
the combatants and the crash of musketry make the woods reverberate. 
The hostile lines are not far apart, and pour destructive volleys into 
each other at short range. The commands of the enemy's officers 
can be heard in the Union lines. "My men were ordered by me to 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 103 

lie down, load, rise and fire," writes a captain of Missouri volunteers. 
"In this way I saved the lives of many men. After a few rounds 
were fired, a command was given by a rebel officer in a loud tone to 
fire low, when a leaden hail swept through our ranks, wounding sev- 
eral of our men and throwing my company into confusion." 

By this time the steady, dogged advance of the Confederates had 
brought the hostile lines almost within bayonet reach. The blue-coats 
held their ground with admirable pluck, but fell fast before the fatal 
fire of the foe. At several places along the Union line the ammu- 
nition was exhausted, and the point of the bayonet alone was relied 
upon to hold the enemy in check. Twice, with bayonet charges, did 
the Union soldiers recapture the guns lost early in the battle, only to 
be driven away again by the enemy returning reenforced and with 
fresh determination. And so backward and forward, over the crest of 
the hill the surging mass of struggling, bleeding, fighting, cursing men 
went plunging until gathering darkness made it hard to tell friend 
from foe, and the strife lost something of its fierceness. Still in the 
deepening gloom the crack of the rifle and the occasional roar of a 
volley rung out, until the clear notes of a bugle gave the command 
"cease firing," and the battle was over. 

Two hours had seen the battle begin and end. Scarce 4000 
men on either side actually took part in the fray. Nevertheless it 
was a bloody field, for 141 dead bodies clad in blue, and 85 in the 
Confederate gray, lay on the ground. In wounded Rosecrans had lost 
613, and Price 410. The Union loss was mostly in the brigade of 
Hamilton. Among the Confederate dead was General Little — shot 
through the head as he stood talking to General Price. 

That night the Union soldiers bivouacked on the slope of the hill 
they had fought so fiercely to hold. Soon after dark a drenching rain 
began to fall, and the weary, half-famished soldiers rolled themselves in 
their blankets and huddled about the fires with gloomy anticipations 
of a night of discomfort in which to prepare for another day of bat- 
tle. Few of the Union soldiers had the night undisturbed, for there 



104 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

was marching to and fro as Rosecrans rearranged his hncs, sending to 
the rear the regiments that had borne the brunt of the first day's 
fighting, and bringing forward the fresh troops of Stanley's division. 

The Confederates for their part slowly withdrew from the field, 
leaving pickets and skirmishers behind to mask their retreat. Gen- 
eral Price knew that Ord was in his rear, that Grant was not far 
away, and that at any moment he might find himself caught between 
two fires. So only stopping to give the body of General Little a 
midnight burial by torchlight, and to set fire to the stores that the 
Federals had left in luka in their flight, he abandoned the village by 
the one road left uncovered. The sight of the blazing boxes, bales, 
and barrels of provisions was a sore blow to the Confederate host, who 
on entering the village had thought to revel in the good things pro- 
vided for their enemies, and were now obliged to retreat leaving the 
provender almost untouched. 

The next morning Rosecrans began his advance. He moved cau- 
tiously forward, expecting every moment to hear the crack of some 
Confederate picket's rifle. The enemy's dead and many of his 
wounded lay on the ground. Soon the skirmishers of the Union 
army passed the guns that the Confederates had captured the day be- 
fore, spiked and abandoned. Then Rosecrans began to think the 
enemy had fled, and in a moment more a man with a white flag came 
into the lines, and reported that luka was deserted by Price and his 
soldiers. Ord, who had only received word of the battle at midnight, 
and to whose ears no sound of Rosecrans's cannon had come, 
reached the village about the same time as did the battle-scarred 
ranks of Rosecrans's division. It was then too late, however, to think 
of pursuing the enemy, and so Price's column, unmolested, went trail- 
ing off toward Tupelo, the soldiers consoling themselves for their de- 
feat by plundering every house they passed, as though wholly oblivious 
to the fact that they were in a friendly country. 

Three weeks passed. luka, deserted by all save a handful of Fed- 
erals, relapsed into the sylvan quiet of a ruined summer resort. Ord 




BURIAL OF GENERAL LITTLE. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 107 



had been sent to Bolivar, while Rosecrans with 19,000 men was tenant- 
ing the snug defenses which Grant had constructed inside the immense 
works built by Beauregard at Corinth. Upon Corinth the Confeder- 
ates looked with a covetous eye. As a railroad center, it was of 
supreme strategetical importance. 

Van Dorn, who ranked Price now in the command of the Con- 
federate army in the southwest, says in his report : 

" I determined to attack Corinth. I had a reasonable hope of success. Field returns 
at Ripley showed my strength to be about 22,000 men. Rosecrans at Corinth had about 
15,000, with about 8000 additional men at outposts from 12 to 15 miles distant. I might 
surprise him and carry the place before these troops could be brought in. It was nec- 
essary for the blow to be sudden and decisive." 

Though he had determined to attack Corinth, Van Dorn took 
every precaution to prevent his purpose from becoming known. Rose- 
crans was completely mystified by the apparently eccentric movements 
of the Confederates. For some time he was in doubt whether it was 
Bolivar or Corinth that was in danger. When he saw the blow was 
to be struck at the latter place, he was still in doubt as to the quarter 
from which it would come. But he kept busily on throwing up earth- 
works, digging rifle-pits, and putting up chevaux-de-frise in every direc- 
tion, while all the time the cavalry — the eyes of an army — were scour- 
ing the country and bringing in reports of the enemy's movements. 

A happy accident enabled Rosecrans to get wind of Van Dorn's 
designs, and then to lure him into a trap prepared for him. The 
Union general became convinced that some one in Corinth was com- 
municating with the enemy. 

Spies were set to watch the suspected persons, and before very long 
Rosecrans was in possession of a letter which a Miss Burton had tried 
to send to Van Dorn. Opening it, he discovered that it gave full 
information as to the strength of the Union forces, and the number 
of their cannon. The writer further suggested that the Confederates 
should attack on the northwest side of the town, where the defenses 
were weakest. With admirable shrewdness Rosecrans resealed the let- 



108 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

ter, sent it on to Van Dorn, and then went to work strengthening 
the earthworks on the northwest side of the town, keeping a vigi- 
lant watch upon Miss Burton meanwhile, to see that she found no 
means of warning Van Dorn against the trap that was being prepared 
for him. Before the cavalry scouts reported the enemy advancing 
in force, the ground which Miss Burton had called the weak spot 
in the Union line was well provided with revetted redoubts, rifle-pits, 
trenches, log breastworks and other defensive erections. 

Friday, October 3d, sees the Confederates advancing in earnest, 
and by the northwest side of the town, sure enough. There has 
been skirmishing for two or three days, but this time the enemy 
pushes on so persistently that General Rosecrans feels sure that the 
day of battle has come. He sends forward Hamilton, the hero of 
the fight at luka, Davies, McArthur, and Crocker to meet them. 
Davies and McArthur get their men behind some old deserted earth- 
works — relics of the earlier Confederate occupation of Corinth — and 
make a stubborn resistance. They had been ordered only to make 
a suflficient resistance to force Van Dorn to show his hand, but Mc- 
Arthur's Scotch blood is up, and he makes so bitter a fight that 
Van Dorn believes he has encountered the main line of defense, and 
Avhen he has carried the earthworks thinks that Corinth is already his. 
But before he passes that line, so hastily occupied, Van Dorn sees 
many of his bravest soldiers fall, while in the Union ranks Brigadier- 
General Hackleman is killed, and Brigadier-General Oglesby — Gover- 
nor of Illinois many years later— is desperately wounded. Then the 
triumphant Confederates push on toward Corinth, until darkness 
checks their advance, and ends the running fight. "I saw with regret 
the sun sink behind the horizon," wrote Van Dorn in his report, "as 
the last shot of our sharpshooters followed the retreating foe into 
their innermost lines. One hour more of daylight and victory would 
have soothed our grief for the loss' of the gallant dead who sleep on 
that lost but not dishonored field. The army slept on its arms 
within six hundred yards of Corinth, victorious so far." 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 109 

But commenting upon this General Rosecrans says that he too 
saw with grief the sun setting, because one hour more would have 
given Hamilton time to complete a movement he was making to fall 
upon the Confederate rear and right flank, with the probable effect of 
throwing them into helpless confusion. 

Whether the setting of the sun was disastrous the more to the 
Confederate or the Union case must remain undetermined. But cer- 
tain it is that both armies utilized, to the fullest extent, the oppor- 
tunity afforded by the night to reform their lines and strengthen their 
positions. By this Rosecrans -unquestionably profited the more. He 
was fighting a defensive battle. His men could fight behind breast- 
works. All that night men worked by the light of torches, throw- 
ing up earthworks, digging trenches, and building redoubts of logs. 
One fort was built by fugitive slaves who had fled to Corinth to seek 
shelter under the flag of the Union. Long before daylight the path- 
way which the assailants had to tread to reach the town was a valley 
of death. 

Dawn brings the opening of the conflict. A Confederate battery 
posted during the night on a commanding hill near town begins to 
shell the Union camp. The missiles drop among the soldiers' camp- 
fires and crash through buildings, sending the non-combatants flying 
for dear life out of town. After bearing it for an hour, the Federals 
return the fire from Fort Williams — one of the works put up during 
the night — and in a few minutes the Confederate battery is silenced 
and one gun deserted by the artillerymen. 

Now for a time the skirmishers have it to themselves. The rattle 
of their musketry and the deliberate firing of batteries tell the educated 
ear of a soldier that as yet the battle has not begun. When the 
fighting begins in earnest the cannon will boom faster and the musket- 
shots will come in volleys. 

Van Dorn has formulated a plan of attack. What would have been 
the result had it been followed cannot be told. It is not followed 
because General Hebert, who was to have opened the attack, is taken 



110 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

ill and fails either to carry out his orders or report his condition. 
About nine o'cloct: Van Dorn discovers why his assault is lagging and 
sends an officer to take Hebert's place. But the battle then takes 
the form of a direct attack upon a force of equal strength, sheltered 
by formidable earthworks. The result is inevitable. 

Half-past nine o'clock. Suddenly the Union soldiers in the chain 
of redoubts that stretch from Fort Williams on the left to Fort Rich- 
ardson on the right, see dense masses of troops coming down the 
Bolivar road. Upon the Confederates, thus massed in column of fours, 
the Union guns begin to play. Almost instantly the column opens, 
spreads out like a fan, and a long line of determined veterans comes 
sweeping forward, faltering not, marching sternly and steadily, deter- 
mined to carry the Union works or fall before them. Now all the 
Union cannon are flaming and smoking. From Battery Robinett; 
from Forts Williams, and Richardson, and Powell spurt the jets of 
lurid flame that bid God-speed to the cannon's missive of death. 
Between the forts is the Union infantry, drawn up in line of battle and 
pouring volleys upon the advancing Confederates as fast as the smok- 
ing muskets can be loaded and discharged. Behind their log redoubts 
the Yates and Burgess sharpshooters pour in their deadly volleys, each 
bullet in which goes to its chosen mark. 

Yet straight into the hurricane of death, with set faces and quick- 
beating hearts, the gray-clad veterans doggedly advance, closing up 
their lines where the enemy's cannon make the gaps too wide, and 
carrying their colors well to the front. "The enemy," wrote an eye- 
witness, "seemingly insensible to fear, or infuriated by passion, bent 
their necks downward and marched steadily to death, with their faces 
averted like men striving to protect themselves against a driving 
storm of hail." 

The right of the Union line of defense is most advanced, and there 
the shock of battle is first felt. Fort Richardson belches forth its 
spiteful defiance in the faces of the advancing foemen. Davies's bri- 
gade is in line on either side of the fort, and from the muzzles of its 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. Ill 

thousand muskets the leaden bullets speed to scatter death in the 
ranks of the assailants. Yet the Confederates surge forward in one 
of those grand, breathless, desperate charges for which the men of 
the South were famous. They reach the crest of the hill. Another 
moment and they will plunge their bayonets into the bodies of Da- 
vies's men. But already the Union line is wavering. It crumbles 
away at the ends. Gaps appear in it not made by wounds or death. 
The men are straggling to the rear. Rosecrans sees that the line is 
going. Galloping to the spot he strives to hold the men at their post. 
Over the roar of battle his voice cannot be heard, but he waves his hat 
and points his sword at the enemy. But it is too late. All at once 
Davies's men give way and fall back, carrying Rosecrans with them, 
shouting, gesticulating, imploring, but all helpless in the midst of the 
panic-stricken rabble. The Confederate brigades of Gates and Cabell, 
sorely cut up, sweep on in pursuit. The redoubt of Fort Richardson, 
where the cannon are firing at point-blank range into the faces of the 
desperate men, checks them but a moment. Over the breastwork they 
swarm. The gunners are shot down or pierced through and through 
with bayonet thrusts. Brave Richardson, who gave the fort its name, 
falls dead among his guns. Fifty yards down the hill toward Cor- 
inth are the artillery horses. A score of Confederates run down to 
get them, but an Illinois regiment which has been in hiding suddenly 
rises and fires, and the horses fall dead, and most of the men who 
had gone to capture them meet the same fate. A number of the 
Confederates of Gates's command had penetrated as far as the outer 
streets of Corinth. They fight their way along from house to house, 
sheltering themselves behind trees and corners. At last they reach the 
house fronting on the public square which had been General Halleck's 
headquarters. They crowd into the house, on its piazza and into its 
yard. General Rosecrans is on the other side of the square. He 
brings up a battery and opens fire. In a moment the house is rid- 
dled with bullets and full of dead and wounded men. 

But now the force of the Confederates* splendid charge is spent. 



112 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

The Tenth Ohio and Fifth Minnesota regiments drive from the town 
such of the enemy as have come so far. The Fifty-first IlHnois 
drives off the captors of Fort Richardson. Hamilton's veterans come 
up to aid in the work of wresting from the enemy the ground he had so 
magnificently won. A concentric fire from a ring of Union batteries is 
poured into the bleeding ranks of Gates and Cabell. Suddenly they 
retreat. It is a bitter disappointment to so soon lose the fruits of 
their daring charge. But the fortune of war is inexorable, and soon 
the ground before Fort Richardson is held only by the Confederate 
dead and wounded. There is no more fighting there that day. 

After the battle was oyer General Rosecrans rode out on the field 
before the Union right. A wounded lieutenant of an Arkansas regi- 
ment attracted his attention. The general offered the sufferer some 
water, 

"Thank you, general," was the response, "one of your men has just 
given me some." 

"It was pretty hot fighting here," remarked Rosecrans as he 
looked about the field, over which the dead and wounded were plen- 
tifully strewn. 

"Yes, general," said the Arkansan philosophically, "you licked us 
good, but we gave you the best we had in the ranch." 

Meantime Van Dorn had made his assault on the Union center, 
and met no less warm a reception than that encountered by Price on 
the right. 

Before Van Dorn lies even a more perilous path than that which 
the men of Price's command so bravely and so futilely trod. The 
ground is rugged, thickly studded with stumps, and covered with fallen 
trees. Van Dorn's men must go down into a ravine, up a hill, and 
through a tangled abattis bristling with sharpened spikes, and all the 
time they will be under the fire of Fort Williams and Battery Robinett 
and the supporting infantry. There are three lo-pound Parrott guns 
in Battery Robinett. The guns in Fort Williams are 30-pounders. 

The Confederates waste no time in parade or formalities. Two 




STORMING OF BATTERY ROBINETT. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 115 



brigades — Texans and Mississippians — come sweeping grandly forward 
in the teeth of the fire of the forts. In the front rank, towering 
high above the foot-soldiers, is a mounted officer. Though the can- 
non thunder constantly and the grape shot and the Minie bullets 
hum like a swarm of angry bees whose sting means death, the men 
of the South march gallantly onward. Every now and then the men 
in the Union lines see the Confederate colors go down, only to be 
caught out of the hand of the wounded color-bearer by some fresh 
volunteer. When they go down for the fourth time it is within a 
few yards of the ditch of Battery Robinett. This time the mounted 
officer leaps from his horse, grasps the standard of the colors, and 
with the flag in one hand and a revolver in the other, dashes for- 
ward, calling upon his men to follow him. The ditch is reached and 
crossed, and the plucky officer— Col. Rogers, of Texas,— has scaled the 
ramparts and stands there waving his colors, when a Union drummer- 
boy raises a pistol and fires. Backward into the ditch falls the gal- 
lant Texan, shot through the brain. Some of his men have followed 
close behind their leader, and though the guns of Robinett blaze 
fiercely it looks for a moment as though the redoubt would be car- 
ried. But back of the fort were 250 men of the Sixty-third Ohio, 
with muskets loaded, lying on their faces and awaiting their time. 
Their time has now come. 

"Rise and fire!" shouts their colonel. As one man they rise and 
deliver a volley. Then another and another yet in quick succession. 
When six volleys had been fired the first line of the Confederate at- 
tacking force had been swept away. The ground before Battery 
Robinett is covered with dead men; the ditch is full; not a few lie 
within the rampart. 

But now the second line of the Confederates draws near. Over 
the bodies of their luckless comrades who had fallen in the first as- 
sault the fresh troops march with steady tread. The Federals nerve 
themselves for this second shock. The guns of Robinett and Wil- 
liams are thundering again. The Sixty-third Ohio swings around in 



110 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



front and to one sitlc of I^attcry Robinctt, so that its \-ollc\'s \\\\\ sweep 
the front of th.it work. All inul.iuntetl the assailants come on, break- 
ing- into a ([uiek run as the}' L;et near the fort, and cheering" each other 
on with that famous southern war cry. "the rebel yell." The cruel 
flanking; tire from the Ohio troops thrt)ws the attacking column into 
confusion under the very Ljuns of the battery. Many turn aside 
and plunL;e in amonij^ the Ohio men. A hand-to-hand fii;'ht follows. 
Muskets are clubbed and fierce blows dealt. The ba\'onets make 
bloody play on either side. There is no time to load a i;un, but 
the pistols crack fast and often. Even fists are used in the mad rage 
of battle. 

Some of the assailants meantime have got into Battery Robinett. 
They raise a shout of triumph as they see its defenders fly before 
them. But their joy is short-lived. The guns of Fort Williams 
comnKuul the interior of Battery Robinett. Before the battle it was 
ordered, that shouUl the Confederates force their way into the latter 
\\-ork the defentiers should retire, and the task of tlriving out the in- 
truders be left to artillerymen in the other fort. So now the guns 
of Fort Williams begin to sweep every nook and corner o{ Robinett 
with grape and canister. The Confederates see that all their gallantry 
has onl)- carrieil them to a point still under the enem\-'s guns. Their 
ranks have been too sore sliattered for them to think of carrying the 
secontl battery b_\- assault. So Robinett is abandoned, and the gallant 
assailants are soon in full retreat down the slope up which the\- had 
so bravely charged and to such small purpose. Pitilessly the storm 
of death from the muzzles of cannons an<.l muskets beats upon their 
backs as they retreat, ami as many men, almost, fall in lleeing from 
Batter)- Robinett as had fallen in charging upon it. 

\'an 1 )orn now sees his army beaten, cut to pieces, broken to 
fragments against the impenetrable wall of the Federal line of defense. 
On the right, on the left, in the center — everywhere that an assault 
had been orderetl it had been maile with unexceiHionable gallantry 
and had been repulsed witii great loss of life. The spirit of the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 117 



Confederate army was broken. A battle of scarce three liours liad 
cost three thousand men. There was no course left to the Confed- 
erate commander but an immediate retreat. 

Though prompt and pitiless pursuit would have spread still further 
disaster in the sorely shattered ranks of the retreating foe, the Union 
soldiers were too greatly exhausted to undertake it. Lovel's Confed- 
erate division, which had not been in the battle, was a rear-guard not 
to be despised, and Rosecrans had no fresh troops to cope with it. 
So a night of rest was given to the victors, and rations for f^ve days 
were issued, so that on the following morning the pursuit could be 
begun. 

Into the details of that pursuit it is useless to go. It is enou^rh 
to say that Van Dorn led his army away successfully, with but one 
serious contest with his foe. At the fords of the Hatchie river General 
Ord fell upon the flying Confederates and captured three hundred of 
them with two batteries of artillery. The rest of the pursuit-which 
extended over sixty miles— was a mere matter of skirmishing between 
the Confederate rear-guard and the Union van. 

The defeat at Corinth was a crushing blow to the Confederate 
cause in that region. It was to the Confederate campaign in north- 
ern Mississippi what Antietam was to Lee's invasion of Maryland, and 
what Perryville was to Bragg's invasion of Kentucky-it marked at 
once the culmination and crushing of the hopes of the Confederates. 
A bloody battle it was, too. The Union loss according to Rosecrans 
was 315 killed, 1813 wounded, and 232 missing; total 2359. As to 
the Confederate loss a contradiction in reports leads to doubt. Van 
Dorn reported 505 killed, 2150 wounded, and 2183 missing. But 
Rosecrans declared that he took 2268 prisoners, and his medical direc- 
tor states that 1423 Confederates were buried by Union soldiers on 
the field of battle. It is safe to assume that the figures of Van 
Dorn are too small. 

A major-general's commission rewarded Rosecrans for his victory, 
and soon after he was sent north to command the Army of the Cum- 



118 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

berlaiul, from the command of which Buell had been reHeved. As for 
Van Dorn, the weight of Jefferson Davis's anger over the lost battle 
fell heavily upon him, and he was deprived of his command. But he 
demanded a court of inquiry, and was fully exonerated from all charges 
of negligence or incompetency. Nevertheless, Van Dorn was not 
restored to his former station, but served until his death, in 1863, in 
command of a division under Generals Pemberton and Bragg. It is 
a curious fact that this dashing trooper, after exposing himself to the 
terribly destructive volleys of his foes at Pea Ridge and at Corinth, 
finally met his death in a duel. 





CHAPTER V: 

BRAGG IN TENNESSEE. — REVELRY AT MURFREESBORO' . — ROSECRANS IN COM- 
MAND OF THE ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. MORGAN'S RAID. ROSE- 

CRANS'S MARCH. — BATTLE OF STONE's RIVER OR MURFREESBORO*. — 
BRAGG's RETREAT. — THE RAID ON HOLLY SPRINGS. 




FTER his retreat from Kentucky, General Bragg concentrated 
his army at Murfreesboro', a small village in Tennessee near 
the Kentucky line, and about thirty miles from Nashville. 
His presence there threatened the safety of the Tennessee capital, but 
when November came, and the Confederates showed no signs of ac- 
tivity, but went on preparing to meet the winter at Murfreesboro', the 
people of Nashville and the surrounding regions concluded that there 
was to be no more fighting until spring. The officers of Bragg's army 
gave themselves up to a round of social pleasures at Murfreesboro'. 
Jefferson Davis came from Richmond, and remained some time as 
Bragg's guest in a fine mansion which a wealthy sympathizer with the 
southern cause had placed at the hitter's disposal. Balls, banquets, 
receptions and card parties followed each other in rapid succession. 

iig 



120 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

The little Tennessee town was as gay as Brussels the night before the 
battle of Waterloo, when 

There was a sound of revelry by night, 

And all went merry as a marriage bell. 

Nor was the marriage bell missing from the festivities at l\Iur- 
freesboro'. That famous rough-rider and guerrilla John Morgan chose 
this time to be married. The officers brightened up their uniforms, 
and the belles of the town donned their gayest costumes. Leonidas 
Polk, who had discarded the surplice of an Episcopal bishop to become 
a Confederate general, now doffed his shoulder-straps and brass but- 
tons, and arrayed in his episcopal robes pronounced the wedding ser- 
vice. Jefferson Davis was present, and congratulated the wedded pair. 
After the ceremony there was dancing, and the story goes that the 
rooms were carpeted with United States flags, that the dancers might 
show their contempt for the Union by trampling upon its banner. 

The gayety at Murfreesboro', however, was chiefl\' on the surface. 
The higher officers might dance, and banquet, and flirt with the vil- 
lage girls, but the army as a whole was anything but contented. 
The men were disappointed in being forced to abandon Kentucky, 
and charged their failure to capture Louisville and Cincinnati to the 
incompetence of their ccMiimanders. There was an undercurrent of dis- 
content running all through the camp. Bragg was never popular with 
his men. Quarrelsome with his equals, he was overbearing and severe 
with his inferiors. Some sentences of death which he pronounced 
upon some of his soldiers ackletl to his unpopularity. The stories of 
his severity spread about the country. One of his staff officers says 
that one day the general, riding with his staff in the neighborhood of 
Tupelo, some time after the battle of Murfreesboro', met a man of 
whom he asked some information. The man replied intelligently, and 
after conversing for stMiie time, the general inquired if he did not 
belong to Bragg's army. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 121 

"Bragg's army?" was the unexpected response. "He's got no 
army. He shot half of them himself up in Kentucky, and the other 
half got killed at Murfreesboro'," 

The general laughed and rode on. 

But not in dancing and gayety were the Confederates destined 
to spend the winter. Invitations were issued for at least one ball 
which was never danced. When the night for the entertainment came 
around, many of the bidden guests lay cold and stark on a hard- 
fought battle-field near Murfreesboro'. 

The Union army which, while Bragg's men were tripping in the 
mazy waltz, was gathering at Nashville, was Buell's old army reorgan- 
ized and under a new commander. Though Buell had driven Bragg 
from Kentucky, his conduct of the campaign was not satisfactory to 
Halleck, who then ruled supreme over the army of the United States, 
and so Buell was deposed and Rosecrans, who had just won the bat- 
tle at Corinth, was appointed to his command. Thereafter the army 
was known as the Army of the Cumberland. Without moving his 
army from its comfortable quarters at Murfreesboro', Bragg thought to 
drive Rosecrans out of Nashville by sending out cavalry parties to 
cut the railroads which brought to the Union army its supplies from 
the North. For this service the veteran raider Morgan and the dash- 
ing cavalry leader Forrest were of course chosen. Both were familiar 
with the ground and with the nature of the task before them. In 
August, Morgan had been dispatched on a precisely similar errand. 
That time he captured a train of freight cars, ran them into a tunnel, 
'tore down the timbers which supported the roof of the tunnel, set the 
cars on fire, and fairly let the mountain down upon the railroad. It 
took months for the I^^ederals to repair the damage. But in the 
autumn, Rosecrans so well protected his railroad communications that 
neither Morgan nor Forrest could do any material damage. The au- 
dacity of Morgan was not to be wholly balked, however, and he man- 
aged to capture 1500 I'edcrals who were encamped at Hartsville. For 
this exploit he was made a major-general. 



122 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



About noon on the 26th of December, the Confederates at Mur- 
freesboro' were unpleasantly surprised to get word by swift couriers 
that the Union army had left Nashville at six o'clock that morning, 
and was coming to ofTer battle. There were some festal invitations 
out then that were destined never to be accepted. 

Scarce two miles from Nashville the Union columns encountered 
the Confederate outposts, and there was skirmishing all along the front 
as great torrents of blue-clad men went streaming along by three 
almost parallel roads toward Murfreesboro'. By the 29th of the 
month, however, the whole army was within attacking distance of Bragg. 
That general for his part had come out to meet the foe, and was 
encamped on the further side of a little creek called Stone's river. 
The day was spent by both armies in choosing their lines for the 
battle of the morrow and resting their men. A slight advantage was 
gained by each. Rosecrans, having been informed that the enemy 
was evacuating Murfreesboro', pushed forward Marker's brigade in hot 
pursuit. Marker came near rushing into the very jaws of the foe, for 
Bragg had indeed evacuated Murfreesboro', but only to advance and 
meet the Federals, not to retreat as Rosecrans had imagined. 
Luckily Marker only encountered a weak regiment, which he speedily 
routed and a large portion of which he captured. Mis prisoners 
warned him of the danger of proceeding further, and he retired with 
the trophies of his victory. The Confederates, for their part, devoted 
the night of the 29th to one of those dashing raids around the Union 
army. How successful the raiders were may be judged from the 
fact that a Union staff of^cer estimates the damage to the Federal 
army at "700 prisoners and nearly a million dollars' worth of prop- 
erty"; and declares that at the scene of devastation "the turnpike 
as far as the eye could reach was filled with burning wagons. The 
country was overspread with disarmed men, broken-down horses and 
mules," and that the raiders carried back to camp "a sufficient num- 
ber of Minie rifles and accoutrements to arm a brigade." 

Through the dreary, rainy night of the 30th of December the two 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 123 



armies lay on the cold, damp ground confronting each other. Each 
was expecting to begin the battle at daybreak, and by a singular coin- 
cidence the plans of battle chosen by Bragg and Rosecrans were identi- 
cal. Speaking generally, the lines ran north and south, through a coun- 
try in which fallow fields and dense clumps of cedar alternated. A 
railroad and a turnpike, straight as arrows, cut through both lines at 
an acute angle. Stone's river flowed sluggishly along, following the 
same general direction as the lines of battle, but separating the hos- 
tile armies nowhere. Rosecrans was at first surprised that Bragg had 
not seen fit to make this stream his line of defense. He discovered 
the next morning that it was not a line of defense to which the Con- 
federate general had been devoting his mind. 

From left to right the Union line was made up of the divisions 
of Crittenden, Thomas, and McCook. Confronting them— reaching 
from right to left, were the Confederate brigades of Breckenridcre 
Polk, and Hardee. In strength the two armies were about equal, the 
effective force of each being about 30,000 men. 

That night there was a council of war in Rosecrans's tent. The 
three division commanders were there. The plan of battle was un- 
folded. Spies had kept the Union general well informed of the dis- 
position of the enemy's troops. He knew that the weakest force 
confronted Crittenden; the most powerful was hidden in the cedars 
about five hundred yards before McCook's pickets. The plan was 
then to push forward Crittenden, fall upon Breckenridge's weak divi- 
sion; cross the river and outflank the enemy. Thomas was then to 
follow and the whole Union army, save McCook's division, which was 
the pivot, was to execute a mighty right wheel; swinging around to 
the southeast, sweeping through Murfreesboro' and rolling the foe 
away before it. Two conditions were necessary to the successful exe- 
cution of this plan,— the charge must be dogged, dashing and irresist- 
ible, and the pivotal division— McCook's— must stand "like a stone 
wall." 

"Be cool." said Rosecrans as the conference closed. "I need not 



124 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



ask you to be brave. With God's grace, and your help, I feel con- 
fident of strikiiii; this tlay a crushing blow for the country. Do not 
throw away your fire. Fire slowly, dclil)cratcl\- — above all fire low, 
and be always sure of your aim. Close steatlily in upon the enemy, 
and, when you get within charging distance, rush upon him with the 
bayonet. Do this, and victory will certainly be yours." 

And so with hearts beating high, antl the blood coursing more 
quickly in their veins, the three generals went away to finish the 
night with their benumbed soldiers in the sodden, fireless trenches. 

Now l^ragg too had formulated a j^lan of attack. There is no 
evidence that he held a council of war. but had he done so his three 
division commanders, Breckenridge, Polk, and Hardee, would have lis- 
tened to words almost identical with those in which* Rosecrans had 
outlined his strategy. Bragg's left was to attack at daylight; it was 
to beat back, envelop, and outflank McCook; the center under Polk 
was to follow hard after; the whole Confederate army was to execute 
a great right wheel, with Breckenridge for a pivot, sweeping the Fed- 
erals away to the northwanl. 

The two commanders had chosen identical plans, and had the at- 
tacks been made simultaneously ami the battle fought as jilanned, the 
singular .spectacle would have been presented of two great armies 
revolving slowly upon a fixed pivot. 

Early dawn saw the Confederates of Hardee's division falling in; 
their belts tightened, plenty of ball ammunition in their cartridge- 
boxes, and every man in that state of nervous exhilaration that comes 
upon the soKlier going into battle. Quietly they took up their 
march, which lay thrtnigh a dense forest of cellars. The long line 
comiH^seil of the brigades of McConn and Cleburne curved and wa- 
vered, as the men maile their way with difficulty through the woods, 
but when they came out on the edge of the clearing it was straight 
in an instant. The Union pickets were on the watch, and the quick, 
warning reports of their rifles rang out sharply on the quiet morning 
air. But the onward rush o{ the asailants was too impetuous for 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 125 

the alarm to be of any avail. At the sound of those shots the 
men of Johnson's and Davis's brigades spring from their coffee-pots 
and their camp-fires to catch up their rifles and throw themselves in 
the path of the foe. But it is too late. The fury of the charge 
cannot be checked by a hastily rallied force. The Union right is 
outflanked and falls back. Men fall fast, for the range is short, and 
tue Confederates are using their muskets as though there was no such 
thing as a scarcity of powder in the Confederacy. Goodspeed's bat- 
tery loses three guns, for the Confederates charge right in among 
them and there are no horses to drag them away. When that gray 
line broke from the front of the cedar thicket the battery horses were 
being watered at a neighboring creek, and there was no time to bring 
them up. In Kirk's brigade full 500 men were shot down; Willick's 
lost nearly as many, beside its commander, who was captured. There 
was hand-to-hand fighting for a while. Clubbed muskets and bayo- 
net thrusts made the battle less noisy, but no less terrible. In 
three-quarters of an hour the divisions of Johnson and Davis were 
routed, and the Confederates made themselves masters of that part of 
the field. 

Rosecrans, who is three miles away on the extreme left of 
the Union line, superintending the advance of Crittenden's division, 
has no idea of the danger which threatens his right. He hears 
the din of the battle, but feels no doubt of McCook's ability to 
hold his ground. At that very moment, however, McCook's right has 
been cut to pieces; his cannon have been captured and turned against 
him; the Confederate troopers of Wharton's cavalry had got around 
to the Union rear, and were capturing stragglers and guns and 
wagons, — all this had been done in three-quarters of an hour, and the 
Confederates, flushed with victory, were preparing to assault a second 
Union line which had hurriedly been formed to check their onward 
course. 

The new line is formed at right angles to the one which had 
been swept away. Seven thousand men now confront the gray-coats. 



126 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

There were no trenches, no redoubts. Save for a rail fence which 
covered a portion of the hne, the men stand with breasts bared to 
the bullets of the foe. Ten thousand men are in the attacking 
column. Though Hardee's brigade sweeps forward thrice in des- 
perate charges, the blue-coats still hold their ground. General Sill 
is shot dead while leading a counter-charge. Sheridan's brigade, 
being out of ammunition, obeys the order of that fearless soldier to 
stand and receive the assault of the enemy on the point of the 
bayonet. But at last the Confederates outflank the stubborn defend- 
ers of the Union, and there is nothing for it but to give way. 
The first part of Bragg's plan is now completed. The Union right 
has been crushed, and the wheel of battle is to swing around as 
the Confederate general had planned it. 

Swift couriers gallop away through the fields and woods, 
thronged with panic-stricken stragglers, to carry the news to Rose- 
crans. He is at the ford of Stone's river, sending Van Cleve across 
to move on Murfreesboro'. 

"Tell General McCook to contest every inch of ground," says 
Rosecrans. "If he holds them we will swing into Murfreesboro' and 
cut them off." 

Then he sends Rousseau's division, composed largely of regulars, 
to McCook's assistance, and a few minutes later, becoming convinced 
that disaster is lurking on his right, recalls Van Cleve and sends him 
on the same errand. 

Rousseau marches quickly off toward the sound of battle. He 
has not gone far when he sees signs that matters are going badly in 
the front. First, stragglers are passed going to the rear, then com- 
panies, then regiments. Now Sheridan's division comes by in full re- 
treat, dragging a few pieces of artillery. Rousseau hears that more 
guns have been left behind, that 1800 dead or wounded soldiers lie 
on the ground about the abandoned guns, and the enemy is following 
close upon the retreating soldiers of the crushed right wing. Rous- 
seau concludes to halt where he is and await the enemy's onslaught. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 127 

Against this new obstacle the hostile lines dash themselves for a time 
in vain. 

But now Rosecrans comes galloping down to where the fighting 
is thickest. It is time indeed. So long has he been seeking to off- 
set the Union reverses on the right by striking a fierce and final blow 
with his left, that the reverses have become well-nigh irreparable. 
The stoutest-hearted among his division commanders think that the 
battle is lost. But, heedless of danger, never once admitting the pos- 
sibility of defeat, the old soldier plunges into the fray. The man- 
ner in which he snatched victory from the very jaws of defeat must 
ever challenge the admiration of military critics. He forms a new 
line. With a soldier's practiced eye he chooses every point of van- 
tage. His regulars are where the fighting is sure to be the fiercest. 
His batteries are on the crest of every hill. Every clump of cedars 
that offers the slightest concealment, shelters a line of Federal in- 
fantry. 

Fearing nothing for himself, Rosecrans shows little pity for his 
associates to whom the fortunes of war bring death or wounds Some 
one tells him that Sill is dead. 

"Never mind," he responds, "brave men must fall in battle." 

He rides up to a brigade that is holding an exposed position. 
The men are going fast. The spat of the round shot, the thud of 
the bullet, the sharp cry of the wounded, tell how great is the peril 
in which every man there stands. 

"Stand firm, boys," says the general, as he shares their danger, 
"cross yourselves and fire low." 

A Catholic by faith, as his words show, the religious code which 
Rosecrans observed on the battle-field was not unlike that of the 
Puritans, who "put their trust in Providence and kept their powder 
dry." 

By this time a line has been formed that may fairly be expected 
to hold the Confederates in check for some time. Rosecrans suddenly 
thinks that there may be danger of an attack on his left flank, and gal- 



128 RATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

lops off to the ford, which he thinks the enemy may try to pass. He 
finds there a regiment of Union troops. 

"Who is in command here?" he asks. 

'T am," responds an ofificer. Col. Price, coming forward. 

"Will you hold this ford?" 

"I'll try, sir." 

"Will you hold this ford?" repeated the general with meaning 
emphasis. 

"I will die right here." 

"Will you hold this ford?" thundered Rosecrans for the third time, 
in a manner that left no doubt that what he wanted was a direct 
answer. 

"Yes, I will." 

"Good. That will do," and the general gallops back to the scene 
of the battle. 

The new line is formed by this time, and stretches at right angles 
to the first one. Sheridan is there, and shows on that bloody field the 
bull-dog qualities which put him in the front rank of American sol- 
diers; Thomas, cool and inflexible, holds his men rigidly to their task; 
Hazen with his brigade of Ohio boys; Shepherd with his brigade of 
regulars, whose professional pride would never let them leave a field 
while a volunteer dared stay; Rousseau, with his brigade tried in the 
fiery furnace of Corinth, — all these are there shoulder to shoulder, and 
at intervals along the line the guns of Loomis, Guenther and Stokes 
are at work filling the air with smoke made lurid by the powder's 
flash. 

The enemy's guns are not idle, though, and many a gap is made in 
the long blue line as some roaring round shot or hurtling charge of can- 
ister goes through. Rosecrans, who is riding everywhere, has more 
than one narrow escape. A shot strikes the haunches of a horse di- 
rectly in line with him. The rider is thrown twenty feet, but the shot 
is deflected from its course and Rosecrans is unhurt. A little later a 
round shot takes off the head of his friend and aide Garesch^, who rode 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 129 



close at his side. Some one, seeing the blood which plentifully bespat- 
ters the general's uniform, asks if he is wounded. 

"No, it's Garesche's blood, poor fellow. But no matter. Death 
may come to any in battle." 

It were idle to tell of the gallant but fruitless efforts that the Con- 
federates made to break down this line of iron hearts; how with their 
batteries blazing in the rear they pressed forward with all the fiery dash 
of men of southern blood; how they met the storm of iron that dashed 
against them and were mowed down by it,— undaunted, but unable to 
make headway against the deadly blast; how the battle standards went 
forward, wavering now and then when some volunteer standard-bearer 
snatched the staff from the faltering grasp of one falling before the 
enemy's stroke, and then drifted back again; and how, withal, the 
plucky assailants gained not one inch of ground, nor moved the Union 
line one jot. Elated and certain of victory at first, the Confederates 
became irritated at this unexpected check, then doubtful of success, 
then despairing. When the sun went down it left the Union army 
still holding its position, and a feeling was abroad in the ranks of the 
foe that from that position it was not to be driven. At noon Rose- 
crans was being beaten everywhere; the Confederates were driving his 
choicest divisions before them like sheep; he had lost half his field of 
battle and seemed fated to lose the remainder. But by sundown he 
had formed a line which had withstood the rudest shocks of battle, and 
though the general results of the day's fighting had been against him 
he held the field and made ready for an attack on the morrow. 

All night the searching parties with torches and litters wandered 
about the battle-field seeking the wounded. They found plenty of 
work, for the day had been a bloody one, and the ambulances that 
lumbered away on the roads to Nashville and Murfreesboro' were 
heavy laden. 

All night, too, the commanders of the hostile armies were busy 
re-forming their lines, and laying their plans for the morrow. Rose- 
crans rode over the ground. There had been some talk at head- 



130 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

quarters of retreating, but the general determined to first see for him- 
self how strong was the ground he held. This done he sent for more 
powder and shot and declared he would fight where he was. "It's 
all right, boys," said he to some soldiers who looked inquiringly at 
him as he passed; "Bragg is a good dog, but Holdfast is a better." 

But when day dawned — New Year's Day, 1863 — no sign of any 
desire for more fighting was shown on either side. The two lines 
of pickets, pushed within a stone's throw of each other, kept vigilant 
watch upon each other's movements, but neither showed any inclination 
to advance. "God has granted us a happy new year," telegraphed 
Bragg to Richmond, and all day he watched eagerly for signs of the 
retreat which he felt confident the Federals were going to make. 
And there is little doubt that when the sun rose on the morning of 
the 2d, and he saw the thin blue line of Federal pickets still in his 
front, he was bitterly disappointed. 

Now against the advice of his ofHcers Bragg determines to reopen 
the battle. He finds that during the day before the Federals have 
not been idle, and that Van Cleve has crossed the river and estab- 
lished himself on a hill-top whence his artillery can enfilade Polk's 
line. Either Polk must retreat or the position must be carried, and 
Bragg chooses the latter course. To Breckenridge is assigned the 
task; four brigades and ten Napoleon guns are given him to discharge 
it with. His orders are to carry the hill, post his artillery there to 
enfilade the Union line, then press on and fall upon the Federals be- 
yond the river. Polk protests against the plan as being impracticable, 
but accepts the duty. Until four o'clock he is massing the troops for 
the assault. 

Four o'clock. A gun somewhere along the Confederate lines 
booms out the expected signal. From a narrow skirt of woods the 
first line of Breckenridge's attacking force appears. Before them an 
open field some six hundred }'ards wide slopes gently upward to where 
Win Cleve's men stand waiting the assault. The assailants set out on 
their perilous journey, and despite a fierce fire from the blue-coats on 




GATHERING THE WOUNDED FROM THE BATTLE-FIELD, 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 133 

the top of the hill, and a vicious rain of iron coming from the Union 
batteries beyond the river, they reach the crest of the hill. The de- 
fenders strive valiantly to hold their ground, but the odds are too great, 
and the exultant shouts of the Confederates tell Bragg that the first 
trick has been taken. Thus far all has gone well. In his report of 
this part of the battle, Breckenridge declares that he "after a brief but 
bloody conflict routed the opposing lines, took 400 prisoners and sev^- 
eral flags, and drove their artillery and the great body of their infan- 
try across the river." But his triumph is destined to be short-lived. 
As he pushes along down the hill in pursuit of his fleeing enemy, he 
thinks that no foe remains to dispute his progress on this side of the 
river. He little knows that, down under the shelter of the river's 
bluff, Miller's brigade is lying down out of sight, and waiting for an 
effective moment to deliver its fire. The moment comes when the last 
of the Union fugitives is out of the way, and then the concealed bri- 
gade rises suddenly, and pours its volleys into the faces of the advanc- 
ing foe. Before this unexpected attack the men of Breckenridge's 
command waver and halt. It needs only that this cruel blow should 
be followed by one equally ferocious, to put them to hopeless rout. 
The second blow comes quickly. From the other bank of the river 
General Crittenden had seen the discomfiture of the Union troops, and 
has summoned his batteries to their aid. At this moment the guns 
open, fifty-eight of them, all flashing and roaring away, firing not less 
than a hundred shots to the minute. The Confederates seem fairly to 
melt away before them. When the carnage in their ranks is at its 
worst, the Federals begin to cross the ford and march upon them. In 
but a few minutes the Union line is re-established on the crest of the 
hill, and the woods again shelter all of Breckenridge's command save 
1500 brave men who lie on the field of battle. An hour has been 
enough to put an end to all Confederate hopes in that quarter. 

For another night the armies bivouacked on the battle-field. But 
Bragg was all the time preparing to retreat. He knew that his foe 
had been largely reinforced, and he felt that for him the opportunity 



134 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



had passed. By eleven o'clock the next night his whole army was in 
retreat, and the next day the Union troops entered INIurfreesboro', to 
find the whole town a huge hospital, for not less than 2500 of Bragg's 
wounded had been left behind. 

The loss had been heavy on both sides. The fighting was fierce 
and the number killed or wounded unusually great. Bragg had lost 
1025; of these 9000 were wounded or slain. Rosecrans had 1553 men 
killed, 7245 w^ounded, and 2800 made prisoners. Moreover, the Fed- 
erals lost 28 pieces of artillery and a great amount of their baggage 
train. But they held the field, and though in the chief day of the 
battle Bragg carried almost everything before him, yet Holdfast proved 
to be the better dog, and the Confederates by retreating confessed 
that to them the battle of Murfreesboro', or Stone's River, was really 
a serious reverse. 

Before closing this chapter, so full of Confederate reverses, let us 
chronicle one exploit in which the wearers of the gray were success- 
ful, even though their success was due more to the negligence of a 
Union commander than to their own skill or daring. 

In December the little village of Holly Springs, Miss., was a 
thriving and a bustling place. It was full of northern speculators 
who had come south to buy cotton. It was the headquarters of the 
merchants who supplied the sutlers of Grant's army with their mer- 
chandise. All the rabble of non-combatants that always follows in 
the train of a great army had settled down at Holly Springs. The 
place was the base of supplies for Grant's army, and was garrisoned 
by 1800 men under Col. Murphy, the same officer who had abandoned 
luka without destroying the stores gathered there. 

Van Dorn determined to attempt the capture of this place, and 
led a column of some 5000 men against it. Grant heard of the move- 
ment and despatched reinforcements to Murphy's assistance, but before 
they arrived that ofificer had been surprised and had surrendered the 
town. For several hours the men of Van Dorn's command reveled 
in plunder The great depots of army supplies were sacked. The 



__^^_BATTLE^F,ELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 135 

cotton speculators were relieved ^f *-u • 

whfch had been gathered , the to T"""'' "' '" "'^ ~"°" 

^dcnerca ,11 the town was burned. Tlie sutlers' sh.,„= 

van Oorn paro.ed .rpn^L: aTJlrhlr eC TsJ- ^^ 

:::".r";:^r:,t:^r:t,r 7-f - -• - 

stores to the value of Ssoo.l 50^ L^ of ^ ^"^'^^-'-'^ 

^jssar, stores valued at fcc«,ooo='r ^ 1^, o, :: I tlf^r ^d"^" 
cal stores. |6oo,ooo worth of sutlers' stores, and ,0; b 1 s 7cotr '" 





CHAPTER VI. 




THE WAR IN THE EAST. — PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION. — GENERAL 
McCLELLAN DISMISSED. — BURNSIDE IN COMMAND. — CROSSING THE RAPPA- 
HANNOCK. — FREDERICKSBURG BOMBARDED. THE BATTLE OF FREDERICKS- 
BURG. — THE FIGHT FOR MARYE's HILL. RETREAT OF THE ARMY OF THE 

POTOMAC. 

AVING thus described the chief battle-fields in the West in 
which the soldiers of the North and the South contested 
for the mastery during the latter half of the year 1862, let 
us return again to the roads and fields of Virginia, so steadily trod 
by the armed hosts of Lee, and the several generals whom the North 
in turn chose to beat him. 

We left the Confederate army of Virginia after the complete fail- 
ure of its invasion of Maryland, and its crushing defeat at Antietam, 
safe once more on the south bank of the Potomac. It had escaped 
once again the fatal blow which might have been dealt it by a 
swifter hand than McClellan's, but it had returned to Virginia and 
brought the war with it. The Virginians had fondly hoped to 
see the tide of war surge over on to Northern soil, but now that their 
burden came upon them again they took it up with a cheeriness im- 
possible save for a people thoroughly convinced of the justice of their 
cause. It was the unhappy fate of the "Old Dominion" throughout 
to bear the brunt of this determined conflict. 

136 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 137 

Toward the latter part of November, 1862, the Army of the Poto- 
mac and the Army of Virginia were watching each other from oppo- 
site banks of the Rappahannock river at Fredericksburg, a Httle Vir- 
ginia town in the district which had been so often countermarched by 
the hostile armies. There had been no serious encounter between the 
two since the Antietam battle, but there had occurred some great 
events which we may pass over hastily. 

Five days after the Antietam battle, President Lincoln had issued 
his proclamation of emancipation, giving freedom to every slave within 
the States then in arms against the Union. In the North, except 
among a small and bitter political faction, it was hailed with loud 
acclaim. In the South, where black men were property, and to free 
them would ruin many a planter, it created the same anger and hatred 
that an order confiscating all the planters' estates would have caused. 
Among the negroes themselves it was received with wonder, incredu- 
ity, or indifference. Many did not know what freedom meant ; many 
knew but did not wish it. Those who were not far from camps of 
United States soldiers generally showed that they comprehended the 
general purport of the proclamation, by promptly running away and 
seeking the protection of the troops. 

Among those who did not like the proclamation was General Mc- 
Clellan. He feared that it would raise up a party in the North hos- 
tile to the war, and he believed that it would force the Southerners 
to fight still more bitterly and with no thought of suing for peace 
so long as their right to their slaves was menaced. Cherishing these 
beliefs, the general was free to utter them. His criticisms irritated 
many of the foremost advisers of the President. McClellan was at 
odds with the Secretary of War; his over-caution had aroused the hos- 
tility of that large class of the populace which was always shouting 
"On to Richmond," and seldom giving a thought to the obstacles in 
the path ; finally he was a democrat. Of these three causes the 
result was, that on the night of the 7th of November, when McClel- 
lan was sitting in his tent near Salem, Virginia, studying some maps 



138 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

preparatory to a battle which he expected to have with Lee in a 
day or two, there came in to him two officers, General Burnside and 
General Buckingham. The latter was a stranger in the camps of the 
Army of the Potomac, and as McClellan rose to greet him and took 
from his hand a sealed official envelope, he must have felt that the 
visit portended some evil thing. And so it proved, for the envelope 
contained a curt order directing McClellan to turn over the command 
of the Army of the Potomac to Burnside, and himself proceed to a 
town in New Jersey to await the orders of the War Department. 
Handing the letter to Burnside, the deposed chief of the Army of 
the Potomac said simply, "You command the army," and then strove 
to turn the conversation that followed into other channels. 

There was mourning in the tents of the Army of the Potomac 
next day when the news of McClellan's removal spread among the sol- 
diers. Despite his disputes with the authorities at Washington— or 
because of them perhaps — he was a prime favorite with the men under 
his command. Long afterward they mourned his departure, and any 
shortcoming of any later commander was sure to raise the cry "Give 
us Little Mac again." 

The Confederates had a word to say, too, for when the news of 
McClellan's downfall reached General Lee, he said with a sort of grim 
humor that he rather regretted parting with McClellan, because "we 
understood each other so well. I fear they may continue to make 
these changes until they find some one whom I don't understand." 

So, followed by the regret of his soldiers and the hostility and 
unmanly suspicions of the War Department, McClellan went away into 
retirement. Never again w^as he the commander of even a corporal's 
guard. Whether he was properly punished for timidity and dilatori- 
ness, or was a martyr to political prejudice, is hard to decide. It is 
enough to say that his immediate successors to the command of the 
Army of the Potomac did not do so well with it as he. 

On the south bank of the Rappahannock river stands the little, 
closely built city of Fredericksburg. The river's banks are steep 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 139 

there, and the houses skirt the very crest of the bluffs. On the op- 
posite side of the river is the village of Falmouth, and from it a short 
line of railway leads to the harbor of Acquia creek on the Potomac 
river. It was this harbor and this railway that decided Burnside to 
take the army of the Potomac thither, and use Fredericksburg as a 
base from which to begin his campaign against Richmond, — for the 
chief end and aim of all the Union armies that ever entered Vir- 
ginia was to accomplish the downfall of the capital city of the Con- 
federacy. 

On the arrival of the Union army at Falmouth, only a con- 
temptible force of the enemy was ensconced in Fredericksburg. 
Though the only bridge was down, it would have been easy to cross 
the river by a ford, disclosed by a wading herd of cows. But 
though Sumner, w4io led the advance, asked permission to cross the 
river, Burnside refused it. He feared lest a sudden rise in the river 
might make it unfordable, after a part of the troops had crossed, and 
he determined to wait until the materials for building pontoon bridges 
arrived. But by the time the pontoons arrived, the greater part of 
Lee's army was there too, and the passage of the river, which might 
have been won so easily, cost many precious lives. 

On the afternoon of the 21st of November, the head of Lee's 
army, under command of General Longstreet, appeared in sight of Fred- 
ericksburg. The troops did not occupy the town. About a mile 
from the river a low range of hills bounded the level plateau in which 
the city stood. These hills Lee thought afforded the best line of 
defense, and on them he posted his batteries, dug his rifle pits, and 
aligned his regiments. Only a few regiments of sharpshooters were 
established in the town, and they were there rather to harass the 
Union troops than with any expectation that they could hold the river 
against an attempt to cross it. 

Now for a time the two armies rested on their arms. Lee well 
improved his time throwing up breastworks, until his whole line, which 
measured over five miles, was underground. Burnside, being planning 



140 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

an offensive campaign, had no defensive works to construct, and he was 
fretting and fuming over the delay which was enabling his antagonist 
to strengthen his position daily. But the pontoons had not yet ar- 
rived, and without them the river could not be crossed. So Burnside 
suffered the mortification of being kept idle for two weeks. 

Besides the men of Lee's army, one other class of people found 
advantage in this unexpected delay. The inhabitants of Fredericksburg, 
who had thus unexpectedly discovered themselves hemmed in by two 
armies about to grapple in bloody fight, were not slow to seize the 
opportunity to escape. Sumner had threatened their town with bom- 
bardment, when he first appeared on the other bank of the river, but 
was dissuaded by the fact that the Confederates were not going to 
occupy the place. But though freed from this peril from their ene- 
mies, the people of Fredericksburg were still exposed to danger from 
the side of their friends, for Lee's batteries would undoubtedly open 
fire on the place as soon as the Union columns should begin march- 
ing through it to attack him. Thus caught between two fires, threat- 
ened alike by friend and foe, the unhappy citizens saw that flight 
alone could save them. For days the roads leading out of town were 
choked by throngs of fugitives on foot and in wagons. The rumble 
of the wagon trains carrying away the household goods of the unfor- 
tunate people was as heavy as that of an army's artillery train. The 
woods and fields out of the line of fire were soon tenanted by the 
camps of the fugitives. The city began to look empty, and the Con- 
federate sharpshooters who held it found themselves almost the sole 
inhabitants of a city of closed stores and locked-up houses. 

December loth comes. The pontoons are at hand. Burnside's 
army is all enthusiasm, and the whole North is crying "On to Rich- 
mond !" The general determines to cross the river at once. Five 
bridges must be built, — three opposite the town, two a mile and a 
half down the river. All the batteries of the Union army — one hun- 
dred and fifty guns all told — are posted on the high ground over- 
looking the river and the town on the other side. The enfjineers 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 141 



work all night, and by daylight the bridges are half done. The Con- 
federate sentries have heard the noise and half suspect the cause, but 
a heavy fog adding to the darkness of the night made it impossible 
for them to discover what is going on. 

But daylight discloses the pontoon bridges stretching out into the 
stream and reaching nearly across. Now is the time for Barksdale's 
Mississippi sharpshooters to show themselves worthy of their name. 
They fairly swarm along the river front of Fredericksburg. Sheltering 
themselves in every possible way, they begin coolly to pick off the 
men working on the bridges. Few shots are wasted. The smoke 
puffs from windows of houses, from behind trees and fences, and every 
time there is a puff of smoke a blue-coated soldier falls from the 
bridge. All the efforts of the Federal sharpshooters to retaliate are 
unsuccessful. Only a few men at a time can be employed upon each 
bridge, and those few are picked off by the Confederate riflemen be- 
fore their work begins to show any signs of progress. The river be- 
gins to display some ominous red stains, and work on the bridges 
before the city is stopped for a time. When the Union engineers 
think that the sharpshooters are off their guard, a pontoon is hastily 
set afloat. A dozen men carrying planks run out to the end of the 
bridge and work is again under way. But before a nail can be 
driven, or a stake set, the deadly rifles ring out. and a sudden stop 
is put to the bridge-building. Eight trials are made, and eight times 
the Federals are foiled. One o'clock comes, and the bridges still lack 
eighty yards of spanning the river. 

But now the spiteful swarm of hornets has stung the Union army 
into a fury. General Burnside sees with rage his bravest engineer 
battalions sacrificed in the attempt to build the bridges. "Concen- 
trate your batteries and batter that town down," he sternly orders 
his chief of artillery. In a few minutes one hundred and fifty guns 
are roaring on the river's brink, and their iron messages are falling 
thick in the streets of Fredericksburg. It is but short range — scarce 
500 yards at most — and the missiles do dreadful havoc in the closely 



142 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

built streets. For an hour or more the guns blaze, and smoke and 
thunder until seventy tons of iron have been thrown into the streets of 
the stricken city. Then the bridge-builders begin their work once 
more, only to encounter the same withering fusilade that had balked 
all their previous efforts. Sheltered in the cellars of the city, the 
sharpshooters had survived the cannonade, and were still obstinately 
bent upon disputing with the Federals the passage of the Rappa- 
hannock. 

But the plans of General Burnside are not to be defeated by so 
paltry an obstacle as 3000 Mississippi riflemen. They must be swept 
out of the way. It is time for a forlorn hope. 

The soldiers of the Seventh Michigan regiment volunteer to cross 
the river in boats and dislodge the riflemen. It is a perilous task, but 
they eagerly seek the honor. They rush down the bank and swarm 
into the boats, while the Confederates, not knowing what to make of 
this new move, hold their fire for a moment. But the instant the 
first boat pushes into the stream the bullets come whistling about, and 
many a man is hit before the shelter of the further shore is reached. 

Into one of the boats with the rest of the Michigan men climbs 
drummer boy Robert Hendershot. He is not a very old soldier — 
twelve years old this- very first day of the battle of Fredericksburg — but 
where his regiment goes, there he proposes to go too. And so he 
clambers into the boat in the most matter-of-fact way with his drum 
strapped to his back. His captain catches sight of him. 

"Get out of this," he orders him grufBy. "You're too small for 
this sort of business." 

"May I help push off the boat, Captain?" asks the boy, as if 
eager to do something." 

"Yes." 

So Robert clambers out again and w^ith others gives the boat a 
push which sends it out into the channel. But he clings to the gun- 
wale, and so, floating in the icy water, is dragged across the stream. 
As he comes out of the water on the other side a bit of shell tears 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 143 

his drum from his shoulder. Then he seizes a dead soldier's musket 
and takes his place with his regiment. 

The steep bank of the river protects the storming party from the 
bullets of the riflemen, and in its shelter they huddle until the boats 
come over again with recnforcements. Then, with a cheer, they rush 
up the hill, regardless of flying lead, and drive the sharpshooters from 
their lurking-places. Some of the Mississippians are captured in the 
cellars where they have taken refuge, but most of them fight in the 
streets, dropping back from house to house and making a fierce re- 
sistance. At last the town is cleared of the last of them, and the 
work of building the bridges goes on without molestation. 

So all that day and night and much of the next day the blue- 
coated regiments are marching across the floating bridges. Franklin's 
grand division crosses by the lower bridges. Hooker and Sumner by 
those opposite the town. All around the town on a commanding 
range of hills are Lee's batteries, yet not a shot is fired into the town 
crowded with 50,000 soldiers. All the Union officers expect a bom- 
bardment, and many guesses are hazarded to explain the silence of the 
enemy's guns. "I'll tell you why Lee didn't keep us out," said one 
grizzled color sergeant. "He wanted us here. We've got a river 
behind us and all the best batteries in the rebel army in front of 
us, and the Johnnies know they can gobble us up whenever they get 
ready." 

The sergeant's idea is not wholly absurd. Lee's position is in 
fact one which the practiced eye of the soldier sees to be formidable 
' indeed. A chain of hills starts from the Rappahannock river about 
two miles above the city and runs southeast, until it almost touches 
the river's bank three miles below the city. All along the crest of 
the hills the Confederates have thrown up earth-works. Many of the 
hill-sides being precipitous, and heavily wooded, form a complete de- 
fense in themselves. Others slope upward more easily, and about 
these the Confederates have massed their artillery, and exerted their 
engineering talent to the utmost. 



144 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



The hill which of all others seems to invite the Federal attack 
stands directly back of the city and about half a mile from its out- 
skirts. On its crest stands the pillared mansion of Mr. Marye, and 
from this the hill derived its name. Marye's hill will live in military 
annals for many a year yet to come. For half a mile from the city 
extends a rolling plateau, commanded at every point by the guns 
which frown from Marye's hill and the adjacent heights. Just where 
the hill begins to rise from the plateau, is a road skirting its base. 
The road is sunken somewhat beneath the level of the plateau and 
separated from it by a stone wall faced on the outer side with 
banked up dirt. No one w^alking across the fields would suspect 
that either wall or road is there. 

Now Marye's hill being neither very steep, nor very densely 
wooded, Lee suspects that it is against it that the enemy will turn 
their attack. McLaws's division — tried veterans of a hundred battle- 
fields — are to hold the hill for the Confederacy. To aid them some 
of the strongest batteries of the Army of Virginia are posted in com- 
manding positions. Cannon are everywhere. From every hill their 
iron muzzles point down upon the plain across which Burnside's regi- 
ments must advance. No possible preparation is neglected by the 
Confederates. Riding about the heights, General Longstreet noticed 
an idle gun. 

"Post that where it will bear on the plateau," he ordered. 

"Why, general," responded his superintendent of artillery. "We 
cover that ground now so well that we w^ill comb it as with a fine- 
tooth comb. A chicken could not live in that field when we open 
on it." 

The gun is put in place, and when the time comes the truth of 
the artilleryman's confident assertion is amply proved. 

December 13th dawns frosty and foggy. From their trenches on 
the crest of the hills the Confederates can sec nothing but a sea of 
shifting, gray, impenetrable fog, covering Fredericksburg like a pall and 
cutting off all vision. But up out of the fog came martial sounds. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 145 

that tell clearly enough to a soldier's cars that a battle is coming. 
The blare of the bugle, the roll of the drum, the occasional rumble 
of a battery, — not much of that, though, for most of the Union bat- 
teries are on the heights beyond the river — and the shouts of the 
soldiers as their officers exhort them to deeds of bravery, all float 
upward through the fog, carrying their story to the listeners on the 
heights. "We're in for it to-day, sure enough," think the ragged Con- 
federates, and those of them who are on Marye's hill thank their stars 
they are not the fellows who have to charge across that fatal plain 
lying there below. 

By ten o'clock the sun comes out brightly. Its rays are too 
much for the fog, and the gray curtain slowly fades away, leaving the 
martial pageant on the plains below spread out, clear to the vision of 
the Confederates Lee and Longstreet are on horseback on a hill 
that commands a view of the whole scene. After the first glance 
they look meaningly at each other. Before Marye's hill not a Union 
soldier is to be seen, while two miles further south, arrayed against 
the hill which Stonewall Jackson holds, are the teeming regiments of 
Franklin's grand division, and two divisions from Hooker. Can it be, 
after all, that Burnside's assault is to be delivered against Jackson? 
Was all that massing of batteries about Marye's hill a useless pre- 
caution? But after a momentary consultation the two generals decide 
that Franklin's demonstration against their right is merely to cloak 
Burnside's true purpose. Then they give themselves up to watching 
the great military spectacle^ spread out before them. 

Franklin's well-clad regiments are indeed a brilliant spectacle. The 
bright December sun dances gaily on twenty thousand "gleaming bayo- 
nets and musket-barrels. The flags float in the breeze, the^d stripes 
of "Old Glory," and the countless colors of state flags, regimental ban- 
ners and guidons making bright patches of color against the blue back- 
ground of the solidly massed troops. Mounted aides are galloping 
everywhere, and now and then some general officer with a gaily capari- 
soned staff gallops along the front of a brigade, and the cheers that 



146 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES., 

greet him are born aloft on the breeze. Now the troops are mov- 
ing. Soon, after much marching and countermarching, two long lines 
of blue appear and move forward toward the wooded slopes which 
shelter Stonewall Jackson and his tattered regiments of battle-scarred 
veterans. And then the Union batteries far away across the Rappa- 
hannock suddenly spring into full cry, and clouds of smoke arise over 
there, and from the woods where their shells are bursting. The bat- 
tle is begun, but as yet Jackson makes no sign. But when the first 
line reaches the edge of the woods there is a crash of musketry, and 
Stuart's cannon begin to roar. Then Lee knows that his most trusty 
lieutenant is hard at work, and the ragged Confederates whom the 
battle has not yet reached wonder audibly "what old Stonewall is 
going to do with them fellers." 

Let us go over to the right and see how the battle is going 
there. Sixteen thousand men are in the assaulting columns of the 
Federals. Of these a brigade of Pennsylvanians under Meade carry 
off the honors of the day. Disregarding alike the rapid and deadly 
fire of the Confederate infantry and the furious hail of grape-shot from 
the hostile batteries which beat against their faces, these brave men 
plunge into the woods, and push doggedly on. Their field artillery 
does good work in supporting their advance. An eye-witness says 
that the very first cannon-shot from the Confederate batteries was 
responded to so quickly that the return shot sounded like a missile. 
As the projectile came crashing in among the Confederate gunners, a 
boy who was helping serve one of the guns cried out in horror to 
General Stuart, who stood near, "General, their very first shot has killed 
two men." 

Jackson rides along his lines encouraging his men to stand firm 
against the coming assault. Some of the soldiers who had marched 
with him through the Shenandoah valley and fought with him on the 
fields of Manassas and Antietam scarcely know him to-day. A few 
days before Fredericksburg, General Stuart bought him a new coat and 
cap of Confederate gray plentifully garnished with gold lace. To-day 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 147 



General Jackson is resplendent in his new finery. The dingy surtout 
o gray and the battered cap are gone. The general has togged him- 
self ou for battle as daintily as though he were going to a ball So 
unusual ,s the bnlliancy of his dress that one of his tattered veterans 
.s heard to say to a comrade, who pointed out this nicely dressed 
officer as General Jackson, "What! that finely dressed fellow Old Jack' 
No sir. You can't fool me that way." 

Jackson soon finds plenty of work along his lines. A gap has 
been left between the brigades of Archer and Lane, and into tl the 
Federals press w,th irresistible power. The line thus pierced begins to 
g.ve way. General Gregg, trying to rally his troops, is mortally 
wounded. For a time things look desperate for the Confederates 
thereabouts, but Jackson coming up soon changes the situation. With 
out trymg to rally his first line, he brings his second line into action 
It ,s Early s br.gade which now comes plunging through the under- 
brush on the double quick to the scene of impending disasters 
The veterans are inclined to make sport of the men of Archer's bri: 
gade when they pass on their way to the front. •'Here comes old 
Jubal! they cry. "Let old Jubal straighten that fence- Jubal's 
boys are always getting Hill out o' trouble " 

This time certainly Jubal Earlys men do succeed in redeemin.. 
the day for the Confederates. They fall fiercely upon Meade's men^ 
who, exhausted w.th long and gallant fighting, and e.vposed to a mur^ 

EZklin b t " T ^T'"''' ''""^'"' '-'''" '° ^'- -^' Could 
Frankim but send reenforcements to their aid, the advantage so .al. 

antly won m.ght be held. But though Meade is the wedge tLt 

had made an opening in the Confederate lines, Franklin has no maul 

vth wh.ch to drive the. wedge in further and widen the breach He 

has scattered his men over so extensive a line of attack that he has 

none near enough at hand to be sent speedily to Meade's support. 

And _,o. disheartened by the lack of aid which they had expected, 

Meade s men are beaten back, out of the woods and down upon the 

plam whence they came. Never again during the day do Franklin's 



148 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

forces succeed in makint; any impression on Stonewall Jackson's line. 
No second charge is made. The field artillery maintains the conflict 
aided by occasional volleys of musketry from the infantry. Most of 
Franklin's division are posted in secure positions. Some are lying 
down behind a slight elevation of ground, secure from the enemy's 
musketry, but slightly exposed to his batteries which are posted on the 
heights. One regiment was posted thus in fancied security, the men 
joking with each other on their good fortune in being able to lie down 
all the afternoon out of range, when suddenly a Whitworth gun that 
the. Confederates had run into battery on a commanding hill opened 
fire. The second bolt narrowly missed the head of a soldier and 
ripped his knapsack all to pieces. Out of the knapsack flew a pack of 
cards, which were thrown on every side. "Oh, deal me a hand !" was 
the cry all along the line, and the owner of the property so suddenly 
scattered joined heartily in the laugh, thankful indeed that his head 
had been out of the path of the missile. 

But it is not at this part of the field that the fighting is fiercest. 
It is not before Jackson's men that is to occur that horrid carnage that 
is to make Fredericksburg a name brimful of sorrowful memories to 
many a northern household. It is against Marye's hill that Burnside 
proposes to deliver his main attack, — Marye's hill, from which the 
Confederate batteries can rake the plain below as with a comb. 

About the middle of the forenoon, when the noise of the conflict 
on the Confederate right seems to indicate that Jackson is being 
rather roughly handled, the Confederate gunners on Marye's hill open 
fire on Fredericksburg. The effect is like pitching stones at a wasps' 
nest. The shells have hardly begun to fall in the town v.hen a col- 
umn of troops appears, marching out of the streets, and deploying on 
the plain before the Confederate guns. The skirmishers scatter out 
to the right and left and march steadily forward, driving the Confed- 
erate pickets before them. The line of battle follows hard behind, 
French's division leading, Hancock's division in support, formed in two 
parallel lines. Grandly the great array, bristling with bayonets and 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 149 



gay with flags and banners, swings out under the fire of the enemy's 
guns and presses forward with quick strides. The Confederate gun- 
ners turn away from the town now. They have a more thrilHng tar- 
get than piles of brick and mortar. And so from all the semicircle 
of hills the cannon roar, and the hissing shot cut cruel lanes in the 
ranks of the advancing host. From Maryj's hill the famous Wash- 
ington artillery of New Orleans is pounding away. But though they 
are in the very hottest part of the field which Longstreet's chief of ar- 
tillery declared he could rake as with a fine-tooth comb, yet it seems 
for a time that the gallant blue-coats are going to gain the slope of 
the hill after all. Faster and faster work the gunners on the heights, 
wider and more often do the gaps open in the Union line. But still 
the advance is unchecked until suddenly a line of men in gray seems 
to rise up out of the ground right in their faces. There is a crash of 
musketry, and the first line of the advance is gone. The bewildered 
blue-coats hesitate a moment. There comes another volley, so close 
upon the first that the echoes have had scarce time to die away, and 
the smoke still hides their unlooked-for assailants. Before this scorch- 
ing blast of lead and flame, the Federals are swept away. When 
the smoke of the two volleys clears away their lines are seen to 
have gone to pieces, and the field is covered with men each seeking 
to save himself. Many take refuge in a railway cut which shelters 
them from the batteries on Marye's hill, but some Confederate artillery- 
men on Lee's hill see this, and turn their guns on the cowering, crowd- 
ing mass of routed men. The shot and shell tear through the cut 
from end to end, spreading death in their path. Rushing from the 
cut the men seek shelter elsewhere and soon find it, behind a slight 
slope in the field which protected them from their enemies. 

What was it that brought this sudden disaster upon the gallant 
men of French's and Hancock's division? The reader will remember 
the half-sunken road, flanked with an earth-covered stone wall, which 
was described as skirting the bottom of Marye's hill. Here Long- 
street had stationed 2500 men of Cobb's division. Stooping or sit- 



150 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



ting- down they were wholly hidden by the wall. Rising, they ex- 
posed onl\' their heads, and the wall came to the exact height to 
serve for a rest for their nuiskets. The road Mas broad and level, 
and the men were formed in four lines, the first line being instructed 
to fall back as soon as they had delivered their volley and let the 
second line take their place. It was thus that the two ^-olleys had so 
quickly succeeded each other and put the Federals to rout. Later 
in the day we shall find that even the changing of the lines was too 
slow for the fiery spirits behind the wall, and that the men in front 
kept those behind busy in loading muskets and passing them forward. 

Strong though Cobb's position was, Longstreet had some doubts 
of his ability to hold it, and sent directions to other commanders for 
their guidance if Cobb fell back. "If they wait for me to fall back," 
said that soldier grimly, on hearing of this, "they'll wait a long time." 
And so it proved, for his line was the rock on which one after the 
other the surging lines of charging Federals broke and were dashed 
back in fragments. 

But now another river of men comes rushing down Hanover 
street leading out of Fredericksburg, and crossing the canal by two 
bridges spreads out like a fan over the plateau. Hancock and French 
rally their men and join in the second assault. General Couch, some 
of whose troops are with Hancock, goes with General Howard to the 
top of a church steeple to overlook the field. It is the story of 
the first charge repeated. The Confederate artillery mows the gallant 
fellows down by scores, and w^hen the survivors get within point- 
blank range of the stone wall, up rise Cobb's men and shoot them 
down by hundreds. "Oh, great God !" cries Howard from his k)fty 
observatory, "see how our men, our poor fellows are falling." 

General Couch thus describes the scene he saw from the steeple: 
"I remember that the whole plain was covered with men, prostrate 
and dropping, the live men running here and there, and in front clos- 
ing upon each other, and the wounded coming back. The> commands 
seemed to be mixed up. I had never before seen fighting like that. 




THE STONE WALL AT FREDERICKSBU 



RG. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 153 



nothing approaching it in terrible uproar and destruction. There was 
no cheering on the part of the men, but a stubborn determination to 
obey orders and do their duty I don't think there was much feel- 
ing of success. As they charged the artillery fire would break their 
formation and they would get mixed ; then they would close up, go 
forward, receive the withering infantry fire, and those who were able 
would run to the houses and fight as best they could ; and then the 
next brigade coming up in succession would do its duty and melt 
like snow coming down upon the warm ground." 

Prominent in this second charge are the green baimers that tell 
of the presence of Meagher's Irish brigade, and particularly savage is 
the fire they draw from the Confederates, who had tested the valor 
of the Irishmen before. The red trousers of the zouaves, too, catch 
the eyes of the artillerymen, and that picturesque body of men sud- 
denly find themselves getting more than their share of the enemy's 
attention. 

The second charge meets with no more success than the first. As 
before, the Union lines are fairly cut to pieces before the impregna- 
ble stone wall. Most of the survivors drift away to the rear, while 
some find refuge in a stout brick house that stands a little to the 
right of the Confederate position. From the windows of this house 
the Union sharpshooters can draw a bead on the men in the sunken 
road, and from this flanking fire alone did the defenders of the stone 
wall suffer during that battle. The brick house serves as a refuge 
for hundreds of Union soldiers who shrink from the frightful carnage 
of the plateau. General Couch himself rides over there, "I found 
the brick house packed with men," he wrote long afterwards, "and 
behind it the dead and the living were thick as they could be packed 
together. The dead were rolled out for shelter and the dead horses 
were used for breastworks. I know I tried to shelter myself behind 
the brick house, but found I could not because of the men already 
there." 

By this time the Federals, ofificers and men alike, begin to think 



154 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

that the Confederates cannot be driven from their stronghold. "Well, 
Couch," says General Hooker, who is in command on the field, "things 
are in such a state I must go and tell Burnside it is no use trying to 
carry this position." And off he gallops. While he is gone word 
comes to General Couch that the enemy is retreating. He sends for 
General Humphreys, and says: "General Hancock reports that the 
enemy is falling back; now is the time for you to go in!" Humphreys 
"goes in" with two brigades. The enemy is not falling back, and 
the stone wall is as impregnable as ever. 

Meanwhile the Confederate officers gaze from their elevated station 
upon the carnage below, wondering mightily that men will thus repeat- 
edly rush upon death. They know the strength of their own posi- 
tion, and they marvel that Burnside should send his best brigades one 
after another into this trap of fire and iron. Lee, looking down upon 
the scene, turns to an ofificer standing by him and says: "It is well 
that war is so terrible! We should grow too fond of it." 

Now Hooker comes back to the field. He reports having found 
Burnside deaf to all suggestions of prudence. "That crest must be 
carried to-night," he had said repeatedly while walking nervously up 
and down. Hooker bows to the will of his superior ofificer, and re- 
turns to hurl yet another torrent of men against the stone wall. It 
is almost dark when this last charge is ordered. "Take off your 
knapsacks," is the word. "Don't load your guns. There will be no 
time for loading and firing. Give them the cold steel." Thus 
stripped for action the men rush forward with cheers. Four thou- 
sand are in the assault. But again the Confederate artillery roars, 
and the musketry rattles, and the line crumbles away and is lost in 
the gathering darkness. Night comes on rapidly, and when under 
cover of its sable mantle the Confederates venture out before their 
stronghold, they find that the nearest dead body clad in blue lies 
thirty paces from the wall. There was the dead line which none might 
pass. 

A bitter cold night follows the battle. Scores of the Union 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 155 

wounded are frozen where they lie. Disappointment and chagrin prey 
upon the survivors. The Army of the Potomac has been beaten, cut 
to pieces, despoiled of its very best soldiers. Burnside is half crazed 
by his defeat and the slaughter. He wants to renew the assault the 
next day; to take seventeen regiments and placing himself at their 
head lead them against the foe. But from this madness his division 
commanders dissuade him. News of his first resolution reaches Lee, 
and that commander prepares to complete the discomfiture of the 
Federal army should it dare to attack him again in his well tested 
and invincible position. 

There is no fighting the next day, however. Burnside wisely does 
not renew the attack, and Lee restrains Stonewall Jackson, who is 
eager to descend from the heights and try to drive Burnside into the 
river. As for Burnside himself, the defeat and the horrible loss of 
life tell fearfully upon his nerves. General Smith says that visiting 
Burnside at his headquarters on the day after the battle, he found 
the general walking up and down in great distress. "Oh, those men, 
those men !" he cried. "Those men over there," pointing to the bat- 
tle field where the dead and most of the wounded were still lying; 
"I am thinking of them all 'die time." 

Many curious incidents occurred on the day of picket skirmish- 
ing that followed the day of the great battle. A strange experience 
was that of the Second brigade of regulars, which was assigned to a 
new station at midnight, took its post quietly, bivouacked, and awoke 
in the morning to see dimly through the fog that it was wuthin 
point-blank range of the famous stone wall. It was too slender a 
force to charge the Confederate stronghold. To retreat would have 
cost the lives of two-thirds of the men before they were out of range 
of the enemy's rifles. Luckily they were as yet unseen, and the 
whole brigade fell flat on the ground, and there remained all that cold 
December day. So long as the blue-coats lay absolutely motionless 
they were safe ; to move meant a bullet from a Confederate rifle, and 
the men behind the wall proved themselves good marksmen. There 



156 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

the blue coats lay, under the guns of the enemy, .with bones aching 
from the cold, unable to move, hungry, thirsty, and expecting every 
moment to be discovered. Some adventurous soldiers strove to move 
from one part of the line to another, to get tobacco perhaps, or to 
talk to a friend, but seldom did such an adventurer escape unhurt. 
When nightfall freed them from their long vigil, and they sprang to 
their feet, fired a single volley at the astonished Confederates, and fled 
into the darkness, the call of the roll showed that of the looo men 
present, 12 had been killed, and 114 wounded. All this had been 
suffered in cold blood, with no chance even to fire a gun at the enemy. 

Over on the southern part of the battle field, where the lines of 
Stonewall Jackson confronted those of Franklin, the pickets before the 
day was over concluded a sort of treaty of peace and amity. Dur- 
ing the night the firing along the picket line was constant, and as 
the Confederate position was such that the shots of its pickets flew 
as far as the bivouac of the Union army, the Federals made over- 
tures for a truce, and it was soon agreed that the pickets of neither 
side should fire without due warning. But at daybreak a new detail 
of Union pickets came on duty, and being ignorant of the unofificial 
truce opened fire on the Confederates who were lounging about in full 
view, and many of whom were hit. Irritated by this, the Confeder- 
ates kept up a constant fusilade, and a general engagement was only 
averted by the original suggestion of one of the Confederates, who 
shouted across to a Wisconsin soldier: 

"Hello thar, you Yank. Let's stop this shooting, and settk this 
quarrel with our fists." 

The Wisconsin man agreed, and the two, stripped for action, were 
soon boxing between the hostile lines of pickets, who put down their 
muskets and looked on with interest. The fight was declared a draw, 
but it restored good humor, and for the rest of the day an amicable 
exchange of tobacco, of which the Confederates had plenty, for coffee, 
with which the Federals were well supplied, took the place of an 
exchane:;e of rifle-bullets. 




FIGHTING IT OUT. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



159 



Two days thus passed away ,„ unimportant skirmishing. On the 
n.ght o the .sth of December, the Army of the Potomac dispirited 
sintered and bleeding, crossed again with lagging steps the pontoo ,' 
bridges over wh.ci, i^ve days before they had marched with proudly 
wavng banners and hearts beating fast at the thought of giving bat- 
tle to the enemy. Lee remained in possession of a field won easily 
by h,m, though stnven for desperately by his gallant antagonists. In 
the effort to ^ake the heights Burnside had sacrificed ,.,653 men of 
w om ,384 were killed and 96a, wounded. Over two-thirds of these 
fell before the fatal stone wall. Hancock's division, which bore the 
brunt of the conflict there, lost 20,3 out of a total strength of 5006 
In e,ght of h,s regiments over half the officers and men were killed 

; ''^ Confederates on their part lost 5377 men, of whom 608 were 
k,led and 4.16 wounded. Their heaviest loss was on their ri.ht 
where Meade charged through Stonewall Jackson's line. But the "gaU 
lant charges against the stone wall, which cost the Union soldiers so 
much blood, were repelled by the Confederates with a loss of but 
1555 men. 














CHAPTER VII. 



BURNSIDE S ILL-FATED MUD MARCH. — GENERAL HOOKER SUCCEEDS TO THE 
COMMAND OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. — REORGANIZATION OF THE 
ARMY. — DEVELOPMENT OF THE CAVALRY. — RAIDS OF FITZ-HUGH LEE AND 

AVERILL. HOOKER TAKES THE OFFENSIVE. — HIS STRATEGY. THE MARCH 

TO lee's REAR. CHANCELLORSVILLE. THE FOUR DAYS' BATTLES. 

Jackson's flank movement. — confederate successes. — stonewall 

JACKSON WOUNDED. — HIS DEATH. — UNION VICTORY AT MARYE's HILL. — 
RETREAT OF THE UNION ARMY BEYOND THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 




FTER the disastrous failure of Burnside's attempt to drive 
Lee from his position at Fredericksburg, there followed a 
long period of inaction. Separated only by the icy Rappahan- 
nock, the hostile armies watched each other closely, but made no sign 
of coming again to blows. The pickets, who day after day patroled 
the opposite banks of the river, came to know each other by name, 
and to shout cheery welcomes as they came on duty. The sound of 
the rifle was heard no more. Though arrayed under hostile flags, 
the soldiers were getting to be too good friends to exchange shots 
unnecessarily. A lively maritime trade sprang up. The Confeder- 
ates had plenty of tobacco and southern newspapers; the Federals 
had coffee, salt, and northern journals. Boats made of shingles, with 
a handkerchief for a sail, carried the commodities across the strip 

1 60 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 101 



of running water in the middle of the half-frozen river. And so 
several weeks passed by, occupied by Lee in adding to the defen- 
sive works with which his position was protected, and by Burnside 
in resting his troops and trying to restore the morale of the army, 
which had been sorely shattered by the disaster at Fredericksburg. 

The Union general was not long in discovering that his army, 
soldiers and officers alike, had lost confidence in him. To regain 
this confidence there was but one way possible. He must fight a 
battle and win it. 

Midwinter is not a favorable time for offensive military move- 
ments, but Burnside felt so keenly the position in which he was 
placed that he determined to brave the dangers of the season and 
try once more to drive the foe from his stronghold. His plan 
was simple. From his scouts he learned that the Confederates had 
but a meagre force to defend Banks's Ford, some five miles up the 
river from Fredericksburg. Burnside determined to cross at this 
point in force and thus descend upon Lee's left flank. For several 
days the engineer officers were employed in making corduroy roads 
over which the attacking force might march. The preparations were 
conducted secretly, and no hint of the proposed attack reached the 
ears of the Confederates. January 20 found all preparations finished. 
Everything seemed propitious. The divisions of Franklin and Hooker 
were bivouacked within easy marching distance of the ford, which, 
though a ford in summer, was too deep to be fordable in winter, 
and required bridging. The pontoons for this purpose were on the 
way from Fredericksburg. The roads were frozen hard, the weather 
clear and bracing, so that all branches of the army found marching 
easy, and the outlook inspiriting. The division of General Couch, 
which had been sent down stream to distract the attention of the 
enemy from the true point of attack, had made so vigorous a 
demonstration as to create a real panic among the Confederates, who 
left Banks's Ford undefended and hastened in the other direction. At 
sunset on the 20th, everything seemed to promise success for the 



162 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



Federals, and Burnside was elated at the prospect of redeeming his 
waning prestige at a blow. 

The night was to have been spent in getting the pontoons to 
the river's brink, in posting artillery to cover the crossing of the 
troops, in massing the infantry ready to begin the crossing as soon 
as the last plank should be laid. But soon after nightfall there 
came up a heavy storm. The rain fell in sheets. The wind swayed 
the trees and brought down branches or the soldiers, drearily soak- 
ing in their blankets below. Morning found the Rappahannock a 
raging torrent, edged by impassable swamps. Fifteen pontoons 
floated at the river's edge. Twenty were needed to bridge the 
stream, and the missing ones were a mile or more away, being 
dragged^laboriously over muddy roads in which the wagon wheels sank 
to the hubs. The road was packed with trains of artillery, ammu- 
nition wagons, ambulances, and the great drags that bore the heavy 
pontoons. All day the soldiers and the teamsters toiled to drag 
the vehicles out of the mire. Horses, mules, and men pulled and 
tugged side by side. The air rang with shouts, curses, blows, the 
straining of harness and the cracking of whips. All was in vain. 
Deeper and deeper the wheels sunk into the road, made the more 
miry by the stamping of hundreds of men and animals. The rain 
fell incessantly. To add to the chagrin of the Federals, the Con- 
federates had discovered their movement, and their pickets came down 
to the edge of the river and shouted across with fine sarcasm : 

" Stick to it, Yanks. Just wait till the rain stops and we'll 
come over and help you build your bridges." 

When that day and night had passed with no cessation of the 
falling torrents, Burnside knew that his plan had failed. He saw 
ruin come upon him through no fault of his, but he bore it like a 
soldier. It was useless to think of continuing the movement further. 
The three days' rations with which his men had been provided before 
starting out were almost exhausted. Lee had been fully informed of 
the movement, and was by this time no doubt fully prepared to dis- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 168 



pLite the passage of the river. Nothing was left but retreat, and 
this was accompHshed over the muddy roads, with infinite toil but 
no loss, the swollen river presenting any pursuit. 

This brief and disastrous campaign has passed into history as the 
"mud march." It brought down upon the head of the unfortunate 
Burnside a storm of ridicule and abuse, which, however undeserved, 
was effective, for on the 25th of January the luckless general was, 
at his own request, relieved of the command of the Army of the 
Potomac. 

To Burnside succeeded General Joseph Hooker— Fighting Joe 
Hooker the men called him. President Lincoln felt some misgivings 
as to the wisdom of his choice, and expressed them in the letter 
which notified General Hooker of his appointment. "I have pJaced 
you at the head of the Army of the Potomac," wrote the President. 
"Of course I have done this upon what appear to me sufficient 
reasons, and yet I think it best for you to know there are some- 
things in regard to which I am not quite satisfied with you. I 
believe you to be a brave and skillful soldier, which of course I like. 
I also believe you do not mix politics with your profession, in which 
you are right. You have confidence in yourself, which is a valuable 
if not an indispensable quality. You are ambitious, which within 
reasonable bounds does good rather than harm; but I think that 
during General Burnside's command of the army you have taken 
counsel of your ambition, and thwarted him as much as you could, 
m which you did a great wrong to the country and to a most 
meritorious and honorable brother ofificer. I have heard in such a 
way as to believe it, of your recently saying that both the army 
and the government needed a dictator. Of course it was not for 
this but in spite of it that I have given you the command. Only 
these generals who gain successes can set up dictators. What I 
now ask of you is military success, and I will risk the dictatorship. 
The government will support you to the utmost of its ability, which 
is neither more nor less than it has done and will do for all com- 



164 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



manders. I much fear that the spirit which you have aided to 
infuse into the army, of criticising their commander and withholding 
confidence from him, will now turn upon you. I shall assist you 
as far as I can to put it down. Neither you, nor Napoleon were 
he alive again, could get any good out of any army while such a 
spirit prevails in it. And now beware of rashness! Beware of rash- 
ness. But with energy and sleepless vigilance go forward and give 
us victories." 

If Hooker felt piqued by this rather critical letter he made no 
sign, but diligently set about the task of infusing new life into the 
dispirited army of the Potomac. Of the methods he adopted to this 
end we need not speak. It is enough to say that in the course of 
a few weeks he had reduced to a minimum the practice of desertion 
which had been the bane of the army under Burnside; he had 
remodeled the organization of the army; finally he had increased 
the proportion of cavalry regiments and made strenuous efforts to 
bring that arm of the service up to the standard of efficiency that 
prevailed among the Confederates. 

From the very beginning of the war the Confederate cavalry was 
at once the admiration and the dismay of the Union ofificer. The 
reason for this supremacy was obvious. The Confederates, coming 
from an agricultural country, were horsemen by habit and by early 
training. To join the cavalry was the highest ambition of the aver- 
age Confederate recruit. The result was that the cavalry leaders 
had under their command the very choicest spirits of the Southern 
army. Stuart's cavalry was full of private soldiers who by virtue 
of their education, ability, and standing in the community whence 
they came, were qualified for and could have secured shoulder-straps 
in any other branch of the service, but they preferred to wear plain 
blouses and ride with dashing Jeb Stuart. 

In the Northern army the advantage to be gained by well-drilled 
bodies of cavalry was under-estimated, and from the very first the 
War Department discouraged the formation of mounted regiments. But 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. lf>5 

on his accession to the command of the Army of the Potomac 
Hooker insisted that more cavalry should be given him. He had 
possessed ample facilities for studying the tactics of his great antag- 
onist, Stonewall Jackson, and he had observed that it was Stuart's 
cavalry shielding his flank and cutting off all intelligence of his move- 
ments, that enabled him to gain his enemy's rear unperceived and 
deliver those telling and unexpected blows that so often decided the 
result of a battle. As Hooker was to begin an offensive campaign 
he strengthened his cavalry force and put it in command of General 
Stoneman. 

It was in the last week of January that Hooker was placed in 
command of the Army of the Potomac. Weeks and months passed 
by with no collision between the two armies that lay so near to 
each other beyond sharp skirmishes between the cavalry of either 
army. Of these skirmishes there were several. The Confederates made 
forays into the Union lines with their accustomed daring, and the 
Union troopers more than once crossed the river and rode defiantly 
through the enemy's country with a dash and bravado that would 
have done credit to Stuart or Mosby. 

It was while leading a raiding party, that Fitz-Hugh Lee, nephew 
of the great general and one of Stuart's division commanders, fell 
upon a Pennsylvania regiment near Leedstown and killed, wounded or 
captured about a hundred men. Learning that the troops belonged 
to the brigade of an old West Point classmate. General Averill, the 
successful trooper left this note behind him: 

Dear Averill : — I wish you would put up your sword, leave my 
State, and go home. You ride a good horse. I ride a better. Yours can 
beat mine running. Send me over a bag of coffee. 

FiTZ. 

General Averill disliked the reference to the speed of his horse 
and determined to pay his old classmate a visit. On March 17, 
he led a cavalry column of five regiments to the Rappahannock at 



166 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Kelley's ford, and crossed in the teeth of a vicious fire from the enemy's 
sharp-shooters, of whom twenty-five were captured. The remnant of 
the Confederate skirmishers fled, to warn Fitz-Hugh Lee of his 
impending danger. Averill's men followed in hot pursuit. Lee, in 
no wise daunted, comes out to meet them. The adversaries meet 
a little more than a mile from the ford, and Lee, little knowing 
that he is greatly outnumbered, leads a squadron against the Fed- 
erals, a large number of whom have dismounted and aligned them- 
selves behind a stone wall. This assault is easily repulsed, but is 
followed up by a second ; the Third Virginia, a famous cavalry 
command, sweeps across the field and down upon the stone wall 
which checks its progress. Over that wall the horses cannot leap, 
and as the squadron halts in momentary confusion, the First Rhode 
Island cavalry plunges fiercely in upon its flank, throwing it into a 
rout. Its commander, cut off from his men and surrounded, is 
captured. Scarce a hundred troopers of the Virginia command return 
to place themselves under Lee's orders; the rest have been killed, 
wounded or hopelessly dispersed. The situation now becomes desper- 
ate for the Confederates. Retreating by a narrow road they are 
exposed to the murderous artillery fire of their assailants, who thus 
have added to their advantage in numbers the advantage of posi- 
tion. Lee determines to make one fierce effort to avert the disaster 
which threatens him. He has but three or four hundred men left. 
Of these he dismounts about two hundred and posts them behind an 
adjacent wall ; his artillery he stations in a commanding position, and 
placing himself at the head of a hundred mounted men — the shat- 
tered remnant of the Third Virginia — he charges furiously upon his 
enemy's line. Rut once more failure only attends his efforts. A 
high wooden fence, behind which a Union regiment lies in ambush, 
breaks the fury of the charge, and a flank attack by a Pennsylvania 
regiment sends the assailants back pell-mell upon their supports. The 
Federals follow close, but so hot a fire is poured upon them from 
the Confederate artillery and foot-soldiers, that their advance is checked. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 107 



Now is Averill's opportunity. Nothing would be easier for him 
with his overpowering numbers than to ride over, and sweep from 
his path the slender body of men which disputes his further pro- 
gress. But so gallant has been Lee's attitude, so fearless and dash- 
ing the repeated assaults of the Confederates, that Averill never for a 
moment suspects how weak, numerically, is the enemy with whom 
he has to do. Night is fast coming on. He is far away from 
Hooker's army and in a country thick with Confederates. Accord- 
ingly he begins to withdraw his forces, greatly to the delight of Lee's 
troopers, who had begun to see annihilation staring them in the 
face. Some of the Federal soldiers are too severely wounded to be 
moved, so these are left behind in charge of a surgeon, to whom 
General Averill entrusted a sack of coffee and this note for Gen- 
eral Lee : 

Dear Fitz:— Here's your coffee. Here's your call. How do you 
like it? How's that horse? 

Averill. 

April came. There was stir and life in the camp of the Army 
of the Potomac. Quartermasters were issuing new clothing. Arms 
were being rigidly inspected. The ambulances and provision wagons 
were being overhauled. The army blacksmiths were working late 
into the night, shoeing horses. Fresh ammunition was issued. Every- 
thing indicated that the commanding general had determined upon 
his plan of campaign, and that a great battle was impending. Presi- 
dent Lincoln came down from Washington to inspect the army in 
these days of busy preparation. He had long and serious interviews 
with General Hooker. "I want to impress one thing upon you two 
gentlemen," said he emphatically one day, when General Couch was 
present. "In your next fight put in all your men." 

How the President's advice was followed we shall see when we 
come to read of the "next fight"— the battle of Chancellorsville. 

Hooker had, indeed, decided upon a plan of attack which he 



ir)8 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

thought would enable him to oust Lee from the position he had 
held all winter on the heights of Fredericksburg. Ov^er the problem 
he had pondered long. "My army is in a well and Lee's army is 
at the mouth of it," he had written to a friend at a moment when 
he despaired of discovering any promising plan of att^ack. It was 
Averill's raid, just described, that finally suggested to him a way 
out of this dilemma. 

The topography of Fredericksburg — the swift-flowing, deep river 
that separated the hostile armies, and the line of rugged hills held 
by the Confederates — has already been described. At every point on 
the river which promised a crossing-place, from where it widened 
into an arm of the sea four miles below Fredericksburg up to the 
point where it received the current of the Rapidan River, the Con- 
federates were posted in force. To attempt to cross between these 
points would be to repeat Burnsicie's blunder and attack the enemy 
where he was strongest. To go down-stream seeking a crossing was 
useless, for the river soon became too wide to be crossed by an 
army. To go up stream, beyond the enemy's left flank, was to 
have two rivers to cross instead of one. Nevertheless this was the 
plan which Hooker finally adopted. The success of Ax-erill's expedi- 
dition had shown the ease with which the Rappahannock might be 
crossed at Kelley's Ford, and the Rapidan was but a small stream, 
little likely to embarrass a marching army. 

Hooker's plan, then, was to leave enough of his army before Freder- 
icksburg to conceal his departure, send a formidable force down 
stream to make a show of crossing and attract the enemy's atten- 
tion to that quarter, while he himself, with the main body of the 
army, should proceed to the northward, cross the Rappahannock at 
Kelley's Ford, the Rapidan at Germania Ford, and then press on and 
fall upon Lee's position from the left and the rear. It was an admir- 
able plan. For its successful execution, swift, determined action alone 
was essential. 

Part of Hooicer's original plan was a cavalry raid by Stoneman, 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 109 



who with 10,000 men was to cross the river two weeks before the 
date set for the main attack, proceed to Lee's rear, cutting canals, 
telegraph lines and railroads, burning the Confederate depots of sup- 
plies, destroying the enemy's connections with Richmond, and spread- 
ing such general disorder and consternation in the ranks of the 
enemy, that Hooker's attack should fall upon a badly demoralized foe. 
Of this piece of projected strategy, it is enough to say that spring 
freshets prevented Stoneman from crossing the river until too late 
to accomplish anything whatsoever. 

The latter part of April found the Union army ready for the 
projected battle, and brought weather mild enough and dry enough to 
make marching practicable. Without further delay Hooker began pre- 
paring for this great movement. On the 21st, Doubleday's division 
went about twenty miles down the Rappahannock and made a feint of 
building a bridge. Two days later the Twenty-fourth Michigan regiment 
actually did cross the river in boats a few miles below the town. 
The effect of these maneuvers was to somewhat distract the atten- 
tion of the Confederates from the fords up-stream where Hooker 
actually proposed to make his crossing. Lee, however, was not 
entirely deceived, and looked with some suspicion upon these demon- 
strations below the city, as is shown by his letter to Jackson, in 
which he said, "I think .... the enemy's purpose is to draw our 
troops in that direction while he attempts a passage elsewhere. I 
would not, then, send down more troops than are actually necessary." 
But though General Lee was not tricked into sending troops 
down stream, he does not seem to have divined Hooker's plan, and 
failed to discover that on the 28th, while a large force of Federals 
was building bridges under fire three miles below Fredericksburg, a 
still larger force was crossing the Rappahannock at Kelley's Ford. 
The Fifth, Eleventh and Twelfth Corps were in this flanking column, 
which moved with celerity toward Chancellorsville, a point in the 
rear of the enemy's lines which had been chosen as a point of con- 
centration. "If you reach Chancellorsville quickly," Hooker had said 



170 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

to General Slocum, who commanded the flanking column, "the game 
is ours." 

Having passed the Rappahannock on a floating bridge without 
molestation, the Union forces had to march about four or five miles 
before coming to the Rapidan, which had to be forded. On this 
narrow neck of land was a strong force of Confederates under the 
daring cavalryman, Stuart. News of this movement of the Federals 
reached Stuart while they were still crossing the Rappahannock. 
Instead of hastening toward the Rapidan to dispute the fords of 
that stream with the assailants, Stuart retired to Brandy Station, think- 
ing that this force was going to follow the same route which had 
brought Averill into collision with Fitz-Hugh Lee at that place 
some weeks before. The result of this maneuver was that, after 
posting his force in a most advantageous position and waiting several 
hours for an attack that never came, Stuart discovered that the 
Union army had passed on toward the fords of the Rapidan. His 
opportunity to dispute the progress of this formidable force had van- 
ished, and, to make matters worse, he was cut off from the remainder 
of the Confederate army. Only by hard riding, by outstripping and 
passing round the head of the Union column, could Stuart rejoin Lee, 
and give to his revered chief his aid in the decisive battle which 
the advance of so formidable a Federal force portends. 

It is night by the time the Federal column reaches the fords 
by which the Rapidan is to be crossed. Four feet of water, still 
icy with the lingering chill of winter, flowed swiftly in the channel 
of the river. The pontoons on which the Rappahannock was crossed 
were coming up in the rear of the army, but to get them to the 
spot, and to lay the bridge, would take several hours. Full of enthu- 
siasm over their chances of victory in the impending battle, the men 
plunged cheerfully into the stream and made their way across. The 
cavalry crossed a few yards below the infantry, and more than one 
foot-soldier who was swept away by the fierce current, was caught 
and saved from drowning by the horsemen. All night long the cross- 




FORDING THE RAPIDAN. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 173 

ing went on. Huge fires were built on the banks, and cavalrymen 
standing in the stream held blazing torches to shed a light on the 
dark surface of the rushing waters. Infantry, cavalry, long trains of 
rumbling cannon, scores of wagons dragged by floundering mules, 
ambulances, and all the vast concourse of vehicles that follow in the 
wake of a huge army, crossed by the ford that night, while the lurid 
glare of the torches shone on the black bosom of the Rapidan, or 
flickered among the bare branches of the trees that bordered the 
river on either hand. Twenty-four hours later this portion of the 
Union army was at Chancellorsville, and was joined by Hooker, who 
cried out in exultation as he saw the lines of his mighty army 
extending on every side: "The rebel army is now the legitimate prop- 
erty of the Army of the Potomac. They may as well pack up 
their haversacks and make for Richmond, and I shall be after them." 

Let us glance at the positions held by the hostile armies, and 
the features of the country in which the battle of Chancellorsville 
was about to be fought. 

General Lee, of course, was still on the heights surrounding Fred- 
ericksburg, where his army had been throughout the winter. He 
had with him an effective force of about 60,000 men. 

Beyond the Rappahannock, confronting Lee, and under orders from 
Hooker to cross and give him battle at a preconcerted signal, was a 
force of about 7000 Federals. We shall shortly see them crossing the 
river and winning victory on the bloody slopes of Marye's Hill, where 
Burnside's men fell so fast in the battle of Fredericksburg. 

Behind Lee's lines, and at a point which threatened his com- 
munications with Richmond, was Hooker. In the three divisions 
which first reached Chancellorsville were 46,000 men. Before the day 
when the fiercest fighting occurred General Sickles came up with 
18,000 more. Lee was thus entrapped between two hostile armies, 
either one of which was greater than his own. 

A word about the characteristics of the country which was to 
.witness the collision of these mighty armies: Chancellorsville, Hooker's 



17-4 liATTLr: FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

headquarters, and the spot about which his army was concentrated, 
consisted of but a single house — a huge, old-fashioned southern 
plantation mansion, the home of the Chancellor family. It was 
almost directly west of T^redericksburg and about eight miles from the 
Confederate lines on IMarye's Hill. The "plank road," which skirts 
the base of that famous battle-ground, runs west to Chancellors- 
ville, splitting into two roads for the last four miles. Two churches 
stand by the side of the road; Salem church is three miles 
from Fredericksburg, and a mile or so nearer Chancellorsville is the 
Tabernacle church. All around the Chancellor house are open fiekis, 
bounded to the west and so.ithwest b\- the dreary expanse of woods 
known as the "Wilderness." Two other country places are near 
Chancellor's. Fairview and Hazel Grove they are called ; names too 
pretty for the ugly work that was destined to be done there. 

If you go west on the road from Chancellorsville you soon find 
yourself in a dense forest of stunted trees. This is the "Wilderness," 
a spot in which the great armies of the North and South contended 
more than once for the mastery. May, 1863, saw Stonewall Jack- 
son and Hooker fighting there. May. 1864, found Grant and Lee 
marching their regiments through its tangled recesses. A writer who 
had \-isited every part of this iiistoric spot, says of it : " There all 
is wild, desolate, and lugubrious. Thicket, undergrowth, and jungle 
stretch for miles impenetrable and untouched. Narrow roads wind on 
forever between melancholy masses of stunted and gnarled oak. 
Little sunlight shines there — the face of nature is drear\- and sad. It 
was so before the battle; it is not more cheerful to-day. when, as 
you ride along, you see fragments of shell, rotting knapsacks, rusty 
gun-barrels, bleached bones, and grinning skulls. Into this jungle 
General Hooker penetrated. It was the wolf in his den, ready to 
tear any one who approached. A battle there seemed impossible. 
Neither side could see its antagonist. Artillery could not move; 
cavalry could not operate; the very infantry had to flatten their 
bodies to sjlide between the stunted trees." 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 1''5 



In the heart of this dreary waste, two miles west from Chancel- 
lorsville, is a roadside tavern called Dowdall's. A few rods away is a 
little meeting-house called the Wilderness church. 

The campaign of Chancellorsville was short. It began and ended 
in the few days between April 27 and May 5. The actual battle 
was of four days duration, beginning on the ist of May. All the 
military movements generally comprehended under the name of the 
battle of Chancellorsville seem to be naturally classified into three 
groups, viz : 

The fighting about Chancellorsville and in the Wilderness. 

Sedgewick's assault on the heights of Fredericksburg. 

Stoneman's cavalry raid. 

Let us consider the events under the first classification, which 
occurred under the direct personal supervision of General Hooker, until 
he was wounded late in the action. 

On the night of the 30th of April, General Hooker had, as we 
have said, 46,000 men at Chancellorsville, with 18,000 more within 
supporting distance. No foe of any great strength barred his path 
to Fredericksburg. Anderson's Confederate division alone was in the 
way, but that puny force, unsupported and unprovided with defen- 
sive works of any sort, might have been speedily brushed aside. 
Jackson was in Port Royal, Lee in Fredericksburg, all his energies 
bent to discovering whether Sedgewick's attack in his front was for- 
midable or only a feint. The roads were excellent; the night bright 
moonlight. Hooker had three or four hours of daylight, and all of 
a bright night in which to crown his brilliant strategy with a brill- 
iant victory, for there is little doubt that had he, instead of halting 
at Chancellorsville, pressed on, he could have routed Anderson, and 
destroyed Lee and Jackson in detail. The logic of war is irresisti- 
ble, and it is impossible to regard the positions held by the Con- 
federates, to consider the state of uncertainty as to the exact plans 
of his foe which General Lee must have been in, and to remember 
that Hooker had over 60,000 men available, without conceding that 



170 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

had he pushed forward on the afternoon and niijht of April 30, 
disaster must have come upon the Confederate army. 

The bright night was passed by the Confederates in active prep- 
arations for the coming battle. Anderson's men worked all night 
with axe and pick and shovel building breast-works and redoubts 
along their front. Jackson's men spent the night on the road, and 
together with the division of McLaws, reached Anderson's lines early 
in the morning. So Hooker, who the night before had had victory 
fairly within his grasp, now saw all of Lee's army, save one brigade 
and one division, thrust between him and his prize. 

After a night of quietude General Hooker ordered a general 
advance. The army went forward by four roads, and had passed 
through the forest and reached the open country within a mile or 
two of Anderson's intrenchments, when the van of Jackson's troops 
was encountered. That general, in accordance with his invariable cus- 
tom, had scorned to remain behind the breast-works, and had pressed 
forward to seek and give battle to the enemy wherever they might 
be found. Fighting began almost simultaneously all along the line, 
and the Union soldiers were going into battle full of enthusiasm, 
when orders arrived from General Hooker to abandon the advanced 
positions and retire to the vicinity of the Chancellor house. This 
order was received with deep disgust by officers and soldiers alike. 
The enthusiasm aroused by the successful march around the enemy's 
flank was quenched in a moment by the order for a retreat. Gen- 
eral Couch, after withdrawing his division in accordance with the 
order, went to report to Hooker at Chancellorsville. 

"It's all right, Couch," said Hooker as he entered, " I have 
got Lee just where I want him; he must fight me on my own 
ground." 

"The retrograde movement had prepared me for something of the 
sort," wrote General Couch years afterward, "but to hear from his 
own lips that the advantages gained by the successful marches of his 
lieutenants were to culminate in fighting a defensive battle in that 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 177 

nest of thickets was too much, and I retired from his presence with 
the belief that my commanding general was a whipped man." 

That night the Union troops spent in throwing up a circle of 
defensive works that surrounded the Chancellor house. Redoubts of 
logs blocked all the narrow roads that pierced the woods, trees were 
felled to obstruct the approaches, stout chevaux dcs frise were built. 
Everywhere the muzzles of cannon were peering out as if watching 
for signs of the enemy. 

The Confederates for their part were not idle. There was no 
lack of work with the axe, the pick, and the shovel in their camp. 
But the work which counted most in the great battle of the next 
day was done by two men, sitting alone by a midnight camp-fire, 
with no tools save a map of the country about Chancellorsville. 
Seated on a pair of boxes, by the side of a flickering fire, Lee and 
Jackson discussed the situation, and the best plan for attacking the 
men in their front. Jackson wished to try his favorite maneuver — 
a march to the flank and rear of his antagonist. He pointed out 
to Lee that whatever was to be done must be done quickly. 
Hooker had already 90,000 men to confront their 45,000, and Sedge- 
wick would soon cross the river, drive away the slender force left on 
Marye's Hill, and join Hooker. To assault the Union position in 
front would be futile. It was practically impregnable. But by tak- 
ing a by-path through the woods, out of sight and hearing of the 
enemy, Jackson thought he could lead a column of 25,000 men around, 
and fall upon the right flank of Hooker's army at Dowdall's tavern 
where no attack was looked for, and no earthworks were built. 

Jackson's plan was accepted, and daybreak saw his column on the 
road. Twenty-seven thousand men were in line, and as the country 
highway was narrow, the column of marching regiments, artillery trains, 
and ambulances stretched out for three or four miles. Every possible 
effort was made to follow a route secure from the observation of the 
Federals, who meanwhile were standing in their trenches awaiting an 
attack from the east. Many of the blue-coats who had been in bat- 



178 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

tie with Stonewall Jackson before were worried by the seeming inac- 
tivity of the Confederates, and surmised that that much dreaded com- 
mander was up to one of his old tricks again. Despite Jackson's care, 
his line brushed against some of the outposts of the Union army, and 
the alarm was given. But the Federals did not seem to appreciate 
the danger that threatened them, and made no move beyond sending 
General Sickles, with two divisions, to attack the marching column. 
This Sickles did, and having cut off and captured a Georgia regiment, 
returned to the Union lines satisfied with his exploit, and ignorant 
of the threatening nature of the movement he had momentarily 
interrupted. 

"You fellows think you've done a pretty smart thing," said one 
of the Confederate prisoners, "but just wait until Old Jack gets around 
on your flank." 

Even this failed to arouse the Federals to a sense of their posi- 
tion, and General Hooker, though he sent word to Howard, who was 
on the right, to look out for a flank attack, still thought that this 
marching column of Confederates meant retreat, and said gleefully to 
General Couch, "Lee is in full retreat toward Gordonsville, and I 
have sent out Sickles to capture his artillery." 

It was about the middle of the afternoon that Stonewall Jack- 
son saw his troops in position to deliver an assault upon Hooker's 
left wing. With two or three staff officers he rode forward to a 
wooded knoll, whence he could look down upon his enemy. The 
sight he saw made the light of battle flash exultantly in his eyes. 
There were Howard's men, playing cards, eating, sleeping, loafing 
about and amusing themselves, with no thought of impending danger. 
There was a line of breast-works, a row of abatis, but the soldiers 
who should hold them were out of line and their muskets were 
stacked. For a moment Jackson gazed spellbound upon the scene. 
His lips moved in prayer. Then wheeling his horse he rode back 
to order the attack upon the army thus laid out at his mercy. 

Meantime no word of caution had been heeded by the men in 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 179 



Howard's lines. More than one warnint^ had reached them, but all 
thought of danger was scoffed at. "Horseman after horseman rode 
into my post, and was sent to headquarters with the information that 
the enemy were heavily marching along our front and proceeding to 
our right; and last of all an officer reported the rebels massing for 
attack." So wrote General Noble, then a colonel commanding two 
companies on Howard's picket line. " Hoawrd scouted the report and 
insulted the informants, charging them with telling a story that was 
the offspring of their imaginations or their fears." 

Nevertheless the story brought in by the Union pickets was cor- 
rect. The woods were full of Confederates, and they came quick 
after the retreating pickets. The first warning the Federals had was 
a rush of rabbits, squirrels, game birds, and serpents driven from their 
haunts in the leafy recesses of the wilderness by the advance of the 
long line of Jackson's men. Then came the sharp reports of rifle- 
shots along the skirmish line, and then the rush of an overwhelming 
force of men in gray carrying everything before them. 

"I was playing cards in the ditch, and the first thing I knew I 
saw the enemy looking down upon me from the crest of the parapet," 
writes an officer of Howard's corps. 

Jackson himself must have been surprised by the effect of his 
charge, so completely successful was it. The troops upon whom he 
had so impetuously fallen were chiefly new recruits— Germans of Schurz's 
brigade, still untried on the field of battle. They made no attempt 
to stay the furious onslaught of their foes, but broke and fled. The 
correspondent of a northern newspaper thus described the scene : 

"The flying Germans came dashing over the field in crowds, 
stampeded and running as only men do run when convinced that 
sure destruction is awaiting them. On one hand was a solid column 
of infantry retreating at double quick; on the other was a dense 
mass of human beings who were flying as fast as their legs would 
carry them, followed up by the rebels pouring their murderous vol- 
leys in upon us, yelling and hooting to increase the confusion; hun- 



180 RATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

dreds of cavalry horses left riderless at the first discharge from the 
rebels, dashing frantically about in all directions; scores of batteries 
flying from the field ; battery wagons, ambulances, horses, men, can- 
non, caissons, all jumbled and tumbled together in one inextricable 
mass — and the murderous f^re of the rebels still pouring in upon 
them ! To add to the terror of the occasion there was but one 
means of escape from the field, and that through a little narrow 
neck or ravine washed out by Scott's Creek. Toward this the con- 
fused mass plunged headlong. On came the panic-stricken crowd, 
terrified artillery riders spurring and lashing their horses to their 
utmost; ambulances upsetting and being lashed to pieces against trees 
and stumps; horses dashing over the field; men flying and crying with 
alarm — a perfect torrent of passion, apparently uncontrollable." 

Behind this routed disorganized mass of fugitives the Confederates 
pressed on, exultant, triumphant, insatiable in their thirst for conquest. 
Jackson himself rode in the pursuing force, and the Confederates would 
now and again look over to " old Jack," hear him cry, "Press forward 
men, press forward," and redouble their efforts. "Frequently during 
the fiercest of the conflict," writes one of his staff, "he would stop, raise 
his hand, and turn his eyes toward heaven, as if praying for a blessing 
on our arms. On several occasions during the fight, as he passed the 
dead bodies of some of our veterans, he halted and raised his hand as 
if to ask a blessing upon them, and pray God to save their souls." 

Hearing the roar of the guns, the wild yells of the triumphant 
Confederates, and the inexpressible turmoil of the routed battalions of 
Federals, General Howard galloped to the scene of the disaster. A 
round shot, from one of the two cannon that Jackson had, struck his 
aide, killing him instantly. Then Howard's own horse reared and fell 
on him, pinning him to the ground. The fugitives crowding by 
thought him dead, but soon two faithful orderlies helped him into 
his saddle again. He galloped off to where his artillery reserves were 
stationed, as yet free from the contagion of terror. From this posi- 
tion he and his staff officers could see the lines in front and the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 181 

panic spreading from company to regiment, and from regiment to 
brigade. 

"Oh, General, see those men coming from that hill way ofY to 
the right, and there's the enemy after them," said Col. Dickenson, 
"Fire at them. You may stop the flight." 

"No, Colonel," answered Howard, " I will never fire on my own men." 

So for an hour or more the Confederates had it all their own way. 
Neither the efforts of General Howard, nor those of Hooker, who 
galloped in person to the scene, availed to check the panic in the 
ranks of the Eleventh Corps. But about six o'clock occurred an inci- 
dent which saved the Army of the Potomac. This was the charge 
of the Eighth Pennsylvania cavalry, only 400 strong, into the very jaws 
of the advancing host of Confederates, checking their forward march 
but sacrificing most of the cavalrymen in the exploit. Accounts 
differ as to how this desperate charge happened to be ordered. Some 
of the officers that rode in the line declare that they came upon 
the enemy by accident, and charged because it was their sole hope of 
escape. Another account — supported also by the testimony of eye 
witnesses — declares that a battery of twenty-two guns posted on a 
slight eminence at Hazel Grove was the last defense standing between 
the Army of the Potomac and hopeless defeat. The infantry sup- 
porting the battery had fled. The guns were empty. The enemy 
pressing forward would be upon them before they could be loaded. 
Major Keenan, commanding the Eighth Pennsylvania cavalry, was on 
the field. 

"You must charge those people, and check their advance," said 
General Pleasonton to him. 

Keenan looked at his little band of 400 horsemen ; then at the 
overpowering force of Confederates coming forward. 

"It's the same as asking me to die," he said, "but I'll do it." 

Then to his men. "Draw sabres, charge!" and away with a rat- 
tle of hoofs, a jingling of spurs, and a chorus of cheers went the 
squadron. With irresistible force they fell upon the enemy. Though 



182 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Keenan fell, pierced by thirteen bullets, his brave followers kept on. 
The sudden onslaught astonished the Confederates and checked their 
advance, so that when the shattered remnant of the cavalry made 
its way back to the Union lines, its purpose had been effected. The 
guns were loaded, and the charge — as gallant a one as that of the 
Light Brigade at Balaclava — had not been in v^ain. When the Con- 
federates rallied again to the attack, the guns at Hazel Grove belched 
out upon them so fierce a hurricane of iron that they gave way 
before it. Repeated charges brought no better success to their arms, 
and the line of cannon at Hazel Grove continued to be the dam 
which held back the threatening waves of the flood of gray. 

By this time it was dark. Both armies were exhausted, but rest 
was not for either. The Federals were hurrying forward fresh troops 
to strengthen the line which so precariously held the foe in check. 
The Confederates for their part — at least those of the divisions which 
had hitherto done the fighting — were unfit to ccuitinue. "Federal writers 
do not realize the condition of our troops after their successful charge 
on Howard," writes General Colston. "We had forced our way 
through brush so dense that the troops were nearly stripped of their 
uniforms. Brigades, regiments, and companies had become so mixed 
that they could not be handled ; besides which the darkness of even- 
ing was so intensified by the shade of the dense woods that nothing 
could be seen a few yards off." 

But General Jackson was no man to relinquish an advantage once 
gained. Black though the night might be, he proposed to continue the 
fight until the panic that had seized upon the Eleventh corps should 
extend to the entire Union army. To this end he was hunting 
forward fresh troops to take the places of those whose tattered and 
demoralized condition General Colston has described. In his zeal to 
carry this movement to success he galloped forward on one of the 
side roads, and passed the front of his own army. 

"General, don't you think this is the wrong place for you?" asked 
one of his staff. 




"LET US PASS OVER THE RIVER, AND REST UNDER THE SHADE OF THE TREES." 

DEATH OF JACKSON 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 185 

"The danger is all over — the enemy is routed ! Go back and 
tell A. P. Hill to press right on." 

And so, his mind fixed on the progress of the battle, and wholly 
oblivious to his own position, Jackson continued his perilous ride 
between the hostile lines, until suddenly there came a volley from a 
dark thicket ; nearly all of Jackson's staff were killed, and the General 
himself was desperately wounded. 

It was a detachment of Jackson's own troops that fired this 
fatal volley. They saw horsemen coming from the direction of the 
enemy's line and made sure it was a hostile force. Their volley 
wounded General Jackson with three bullets; three bones were broken, 
and an artery in his arm cut. With his gauntlet fast filling with 
blood, he reeled from his horse into the arms of an officer. 

A litter was -hastily improvised, and the wounded general was 
borne from that place, which was within a hundred yards of the 
Union lines and across which the shells were now sweeping. Columns 
of Confederate soldiers were passed going to the front. They looked 
with curiosity at the large group of officers escorting a litter to the 
rear. Who could the wounded man be? The bearers concealed 
Jackson's face, and gave evasive answers to all who asked. 

"Tell them it is a wounded officer," said Jackson faintly. 

"Great God ! It is General Jackson," cried one soldier, who 
caught sight of his chieftain's face and was not to be deceived. 

Twice the fierce fire of the Union batteries brought down one 
or more of the bearers of the litter, and the wounded man was 
thrown violently to the ground. The shock and the pain wrung a 
groan even from his lips. A little further on A. P. Hill's line was 
reached. General Pender came up and recognized Jackson. 

"Ah! General," he said, "I am sorry to see you have been 
wounded. The lines here are so much broken that I am afraid we 
will have to fall back." P\iint though he was with loss of blood, 

the martial spirit in Jackson blazed up at these words. 

"You must hold your ground, General Pender! You must hold 



18G BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

your ground, sir!" he cried with emphasis. It was his last order 
on any battle field. 

When the hospital was reached, the surgeons examined the wounds 
of the sufferer and found that the shattered arm must be ampu- 
tated. The operation was soon performed, and the patient rested 
easily for a time. He heard the reports from the battle field, where the 
fight raged fiercely for three more days. But the rough usage he 
had met while being borne from the field, the falls he had suffered, 
and the long delay in getting under the care of the surgeons were 
too much for even Jackson's strong constitution. Pneumonia set in, 
and death then approached with rapid strides. At the last moment 
he became delirious, and thought himself on the field of battle. Orders 
came fast from his lips : 

"Order A. P. Hill to prepare for action!" 

"Pass the infantry to the front !" 

"Tell Major Hawkes to send forward provisions to the men !" 

After a few moments of this martial fervor, a change seemed to 
come over the spirit of his dream. His face became serene, his excite- 
ment vanished. With a gentle smile on his lips he murmured: 

"Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees." 

With this gentle and beautiful phrase on his lips the great Con- 
federate leader passed away. 

The verdict of history will rank no general, Union or Confederate, 
above Jackson. His was in many respects the phenomenal military 
genius of the war. His power as a disciplinarian fitly supplemented his 
skill as a tactician. His strategy, often conceived in seeming violation 
of all military theories, would more than once have resulted in disaster 
had he not at hand a body of steel-muscled, iron-hearted veterans 
ready to march and fight, day and night, so long as "Old Jack" led 
them. His death was the beginning of the Confederacy's downfall. 
As, while Stonewall Jackson lived, the Confederate army in Virginia was 
so constantly victorious as to begin to think itself invincible, so after 
his death there came to that army nothing but reverses and defeats. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 187 



But to return to the field of Chancellorsville. It was nine o'clock 
at night when Jackson was wounded. At this moment his attack 
on Hooker's right flank was entirely successful, and only the Union 
artillery at Hazel Grove was holding the Confederates in check. 
Jackson was leading a flank attack against this position when he was 
hit. His fall threw his army into confusion, and no further successes 
were scored by the Confederates that night. 

It must be remembered that the fighting which we have thus 
described was that on Hooker's right flank only, and that Jackson's 
forces alone of the Confederates were there engaged. Lee, for his 
part, contented himself that day with engaging the troops at Hooker's 
front with just sufficient vigor to keep the Union general from dis- 
engaging troops from that part of the field to send to overwhelm 
Jackson. 

The morning of May 3d saw the conflict renewed early on the 
right. In rearranging his lines Hooker had determined to abandon 
the position at Hazel Grove. The first steps taken to effect this 
attracted the attention of the vigilant Confederates, and Archer's 
brigade charged the retreating artillery, carrying the hill and capturing 
four cannon. Union batteries at Fairvievv opened on the victors, and 
by sunrise the battle was raging again all along the line. Stuart 
was now in command of the Confederate troops which Jackson had 
led, and was straining every nerve to demonstrate that he could com- 
mand a division as well as he led a dashing cavalry charge. He 
saw at a glance the vital importance of the position at Hazel Grove 
and posted thirty cannon there. Then with this formidable battery 
hurling its missiles as far even as the headquarters of General Hooker, 
he put himself at the head of the Confederate regiments and led 
them in a series of desperate assaults on the Union lines. 

"Remember Jackson!" was Stuart's war-cry as he led his troops 
to the assault, and the men cried "Jackson ! Jackson ! Remember 
Jackson!" as they swept up the hill of Fairview where the Union 
guns were fiercely flaming. For a time the assailants swept all before 



188 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

them. The brunt of their assault fell first upon a regiment of raw 
recruits which went to pieces before the shock. Drill is to an army 
what honest mortar is to a building; omit it and the whole military 
structure crumbles. But the ground lost by the weakness of these 
untried soldiers was regained for the Union by the veterans of the 
New Jersey brigade, who made a furious charge upon the advancing 
foe, recaptured all the Union prisoners and cannon, and took several 
Confederate battle-flags. For a moment this spirited charge dampened 
the ardor of the Confederates, but soon rallying they returned to 
their work. This time fortune favored them. General Berry, upon 
whose command their attack fell, held his men nobly in line. Where- 
ever the serried front of his regiments seemed wavering, thither he went 
to cheer on his men and infuse courage into the most faint-hearted. 
But this gallant leader was soon laid low by a fatal bullet, and 
General Revere, who succeeded to the command, ordered the brigade 
to retreat. This movement was well under way when General Sickles 
appeared and countermanded the order, but it was too late. The 
Union lines were thrown into confusion, and the Confederates were 
prompt to take advantage of the opportunity. Before their furious 
charges, and the rapid and accurate fire of their artillery, the Federal 
army was rapidly wasting away. 

Where was Hooker meantime? His headquarters were at the 
Chancellor house, which by the steady and unimpeded advance of the 
Confederates had now become a target for a destructive artillery fire. 
Here Hooker narrowly escaped death. A massive pillar against which 
he was leaning was struck by a solid shot, and split in twain. The 
shock knocked the general senseless, and his whole side was bruised 
in such a way as to cause him intense pain. Reviving after a few 
moments he mounted his horse and tried to ride away to the center 
of the new position of his army, but the pain overcame him, and 
he was forced to dismount and lie down. A little brandy renewed his 
strength. He rose and walked away and an instant later a round 
shot struck the center of the blanket on which he had been Iving, 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 189 

and scooped a great hole in the ground beneath. " The enemy was 
after me with a sharp stick that day," said Hooker years after, in 
speaking of his two narrow escapes. 

The pain of his wound unfitted Hooker for the further command 
of the army, and thereafter the battle was fought at hap-hazard on 
the part of the Federals. Once the general turned the command 
over to General Couch, but took it back into his own hands acrain 
before that officer had given any orders. From the time Hooker 
received his wound the commanders of Union divisions went into the 
fight or stayed out at their own discretion: — no further orders came 
from headquarters. And it may not be out of place to state here 
that many of the division commanders stayed out of the fight alto- 
gether, for, despite the injunction of President Lincoln to "put in all 
your men," General Hooker fought the battle of Chancellorsville with 
less than half his army, — a fact to which the Confederates owed their 
signal success. 

For signal success it was that attended the Confederate arms in 
this battle of the 3d of May. By the middle of the forenoon the 
news spreads among the soldiers of Jackson's corps that General Lee 
himself was among their officers directing the battle. Lee with 
them ! Then that means that their hard fighting has been crowned 
with triumph. That they are no longer a flanking party of 26,000 
contending with a whole army, but they have formed a junction with 
the troops whom they left behind in beginning their long march to 
Hooker's right. With renewed courage they press into the battle. 

Lee had indeed reunited his army. While Jackson's men were 
attacking the Federals on the right, Lee was pressing forward in front. 
The abandonment of the decisive position at Hazel Grove by Sickles 
left but one point— Fairview— to be captured by the Confederates in 
order to effect a junction of the two wings of their army. P^airview 
was carried after several dogged charges in which the assailants suf- 
fered severely. Then, with his army reunited, General Lee took 
personal command of the whole, and the lines swept forward in one 



130 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

grand, concentric irresistible charge which swept the Federals from 
their position about the Chancellor house, and away toward the 
river which they had crossed four days before so full of hopes of 
victory. As Lee sat on his horse near the blazing Chancellor man- 
sion which at daylight that morning had been the headquarters of 
the Federal general, and at night was ruined and burning in the very 
center of the Confederate line, a courier galloped up to him bearing 
General Jackson's congratulations upon his victory. "Say to General 
Jackson," responded Lee with much feeling, "that the victory is his and 
that the congratulations are due to him." 

One more attempt the Confederates made that day to force 
Hooker still further back toward the river. But the well-entrenched 
Union lines were more than a match for the weary, ragged, and half- 
starved men who had been marching and fighting for three days. The 
assailants were beaten back with heavy loss, and news just then came 
to Lee from his rear guard at Fredericksburg that convinced him that 
there was other and better employment for his regiments than charging 
an enemy who was perfectly content to rest quietly in his trenches. 

It will be remembered that part of Hooker's original plan of battle 
had been that Sedgewick should cross the Rappahannock River before 
Fredericksburg and attack the Confederates in front, while Hooker fell 
on them from the rear. The activity of Jackson defeated Hooker's 
progress and the battle with that general's forces was fought some dis- 
tance from Fredericksburg. Nevertheless, about io,000 Confederates 
were left in the line of breastworks which had been so gallantly held 
against Burnside in December, and against this force Sedgewick moved 
on the morning of May 3. Marye's Hill was again the scene of con- 
flict. Once more the stone wall and the sunken road sheltered the 
Confederate infantry. This time, however, the charge of the Federals 
was successful. A private soldier in a Massachusetts regiment thus 
tells the story : 

"The assault took place Sunday, May 3, at about eleven o'clock 
A. M., the Seventh Massachusetts leading the left column, the Thirty-sixth 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. I'Jl 

New York volunteers in support. Our company leading the Seventh, 
consequently caught the whole body of the first fire of the Johnnies, 
which they withheld until we were certainly within twenty-five yards. 
As some of the officers sang out 'Retreat! Retreat!' the men 
began to yell, 'Forward! don't go back! we sha'n't get so close 
up again.' Just before, and in front of the wall, facing down the 
street is a house, standing in a small plat, V-shaped, and inclosed 
by a high board fence. This wall in our front, along the base of 
the hill, was a rough stone wall forming the rear bank of the sunken 
road, while on our side, in front of the sunken road, was a good 
stone wall even with the level of the field. In this sunken road 
were two Confederate lines of battle, the front line firing on our charg- 
ing lines on the left of the road, and the rear line sitting on their 
heels, with their backs against the terrace wall at the base of the 
hill and rear of the road. About opposite the right of our regi- 
ment was a depression on the hill made some time, I should think, by 
water from the land above, but now grassed over; at the head of 
this depression was a battery, placed, I suppose, to rake the ravine 
or depression. Some one looked through the board fence and saw 
the enemy's flank. In a moment the men rushed to the fence and 
we went through, pell-mell right upon the flank of the Confederates, 
at the same time giving them the contents of the muskets point 
blank, without aiming. The whole thing was a surprise. They were 
not prepared for anything from this quarter, as we were hidden from 
them and they from us, by the house and fence." 

But the men who charged up the hill in the face of the enemy's 
fire suffered heavily. "A blinding rain of shot pierced the air," 
writes one of them. "It was more than human nature could bear. 
The head of the column, as it reached the lowest part of the decline 
near a fork in the road, seemed to melt away. Many fell; others 
bending low to the earth hurriedly sought shelter from the undula- 
tions of the ground and the fences and the two or three wooden 
structures along the road. Out of 400 comprising the Seventh 



192 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Massachusetts, 150 were killed and wounded. Col. Johns, command- 
ing, was severely wounded. Then as if moved by a sudden impulse 
and nerved for a supreme effort, both columns and the line in the 
field simultaneously sprang forward. The stone wall was gained and 
the men were quickly over it. Along the wall a hand-to-hand fight 
took place, and the bayonet and the butt of the musket were freely 
used. The brilliant and successful charge occupied perhaps ten or fifteen 
minutes, and immediately after the wall was carried the enemy became 
panic-stricken. In the fhght they threw away guns, knapsacks, pistols, 
swords, and everything that might retard their speed. One thousand 
prisoners were taken, besides several battle-flags and pieces of artillery. 
Over 600 were killed and wounded in the direct assault upon the 
heights, and the loss to the corps on the entire front was about 1000." 
Having carried the heights Sedgewick pressed on toward Chancel- 
lorsville, thinking to fall upon the rear of Lee's army there. But Lee 
had learned that Sedgewick was attacking the position on Marye's Hill, 
and had sent part of his troops back to meet the Federals at Salem 
church where the Confederates had a line of intrenchments. In these 
trenches the men who had fled from the sunken road rallied, so that 
Sedgewick, on arriving at that point after a three-mile march, found a 
very considerable force arrayed against him. With charge and counter- 
charge the afternoon passed away, neither side gaining any notable 
advantage. Darkness put an end to the fray, just as Sedgewick was 
preparing for a final grand assault which he felt confident would carry 
the day. 

Here, then, were the positions of the armies on the night of May 3, 
after the last charge had been made and the echoes of the last cannon 
shot had died away: Hooker, with the chief part of the Union army, 
was near Chancellorsville, holding the position to which he had been 
driven during the morning; confronting Hooker was Lee with some 
45,000 Confederates; down the road toward Fredericksburg, in the 
trenches by the Salem church, was McLaws ; confronting him was 
Sedgewick with about 15,000 blue-coats; in Fredericksburg were the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 193 

wounded of Sedgewick's command with about 2000 effective men to pro- 
tect them; and finally down the river below Fredericksburg was Early, 
with a force of 6000 Confederate infantry. 

The morning's light saw some marked changes in these dispositions 
of the troops. Confident from Hooker's actions hitherto that he would 
make no attack on the morrow, Lee on the night of the 3d sent 25,000 
men down the road to the aid of McLaws. Early spent the night on 
the road too, and when dawn broke his 6000 men were in the old 
position on Marye's Hill, which Sedgewick had taken and then aban- 
doned. So, instead of being in a position to fall upon the rear of 
Lee's army with telling effect. General Sedgewick found himself with a 
force of double his number before him, and 6000 of the enemy in his 
rear. He saw speedily that the time for offensive action on his part 
was past, and that henceforth his one task was to save his army from 
annihilation. Had Lee attacked him early in the day this might have 
been impossible, but that commander spent the day in arranging his 
lines and it was not until 6 o'clock in the evening that he began the 
assault. The Confederates were gallantly repulsed, losing several hun- 
dred prisoners. That night Sedgewick's corps re-crossed the river to 
the north side, where they were soon joined by Hooker, who aban- 
doned his dead and wounded on the field of Chancellorsville, and fled 
in the night. 

So ended the battle of Chancellorsville, — ended in defeat and humili- 
ation for Hooker; in victory and glory for Lee. The Federals had 
been cleanly out-generaled. An opportunity to demolish Lee's army 
had been lost. So far as the actual valor shown by the soldiers of the 
two armies is concerned there is no reason to rank either above the 
other. But Jackson's flanking march with its complete success, and 
Lee's brilliant strategy, which enabled him to beat Hooker and then 
lead his whole force against Sedgewick, were the two factors which 
determined the outcome of the battle. 

The losses on each side were heavy. According to the official 
reports the Federals lost 17,197 men, of whom 12,197 were among the 



194 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



killed and wounded. The Confederates for their part reported a loss 
of 13,019, of whom 10,266 were among the killed and wounded. But 
the triumph at Chancellorsville cost the South one soldier whose loss 
could never be replaced, and whose death marked the beginning of the 
end of the Confederacy — Stonewall Jackson. Throughout the early- 
years of the war Jackson was Lee's right arm. No jealousy existed 
between them. The soldier of inferior rank gave to his commander 
unquestioned obedience, and Lee in his turn gave to his subordinate 
the fullest confidence. How greatly Lee felt the loss of his able asso- 
ciate his utterances at the time tell. How correctly he estimated the 
effect of that loss we shall see when we come to read of the battle of 
Gettysburg. 








CHAPTER VIII. 

CONFEDERATE ACTIVITY. — GENERAL LEE DETERMINES TO ATTEMPT THE INVA- 
SION OF PENNSYLVANIA. CAVALRY BATTLE AT BRANDY STATION. LEE'S 

NORTHWARD MARCH. PANIC IN NORTHERN CITIES. HOOKER IN PUR- 
SUIT. — MEADE SUPERSEDES HOOKER. GETTYSBURG. THE BATTLE OF 

THE FIRST DAY. OLD JOHN BURNS. BAYARD WILKESON's HEROISM. 

INCIDENTS OF THE BATTLE. 




FTER the battle of Chancellorsville there followed a month 
of inaction. The North was disheartened, the Army of the 
Potomac dispirited. The more the soldiers and the people 
reflected upon the defeat, the more galling they found it. To be 
defeated was bad enough, but to reflect that the army had been 
defeated while 37,000 men stood idle, ready to be led against the 
enemy, but apparently forgotten by the general, added greatly to the 
bitterness of failure. The hostility of the Army of the Potomac 
to General Hooker became open. Officers and soldiers complained 
loudly. President Lincoln came to the camp to exatnine into the 
causes of the disaster, and received Hooker's resignation, which for the 
time he refused to accept. General Couch in disgust resigned, refus- 
ing to serve longer under Hooker. To add to the demoraWzation 
of the army, whole regiments were disbanding, their time of enlist- 
ment having expired. 

In the Confederate camps on the south bank of the Rappahan- 

T95 



196 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

nock all was exultation. The soldiers were rapidly coming to think 
themselves invincible. From all parts of the South there came to 
the army words of encouragement and eulogy. The newspapers with 
one accord called upon the military authorities to abandon the policy 
of a defensive war and to march into the territory of the North. 
Political considerations, too, made some such movement imperative. 
The wish of the English aristocracy to recognize the Confederacy 
needed only some notable victory by the Southern armies to give it 
strength enough to overcome the opposition of the middle and lower 
classes of England, who were almost a unit in their friendliness to 
the North. Moreover an invasion which could prove that the two 
years of war had in no way exhausted the military resources of the 
South, would greatly extend the already formidable faction in the 
North which was resisting the war measures of the government at 
Washington, and called for peace at any price. It appears that 
General Lee himself doubted the wisdom of an invasion of Northern 
territory, but could not withstand the popular sentiment. The army, 
the people, and finally the government called upon him to lead his 
army to the north of the Potomac. It is even said that when Lee, 
shortly after the battle of Chancellorsville, sent to Richmond a requisi- 
tion for rations for his army, the commissary-general returned to him 
the paper, endorsed "If General Lee wishes rations, let him seek them 
in Pennsylvania." 

In deference to the public will, therefore, Lee began his prepara- 
tions for the invasion of Pennsylvania. His army was strengthened 
and reorganized. The slender resources of the South were taxed to the 
utmost to supply new equipments. Engineers were busied drawing 
maps of the country to be invaded, and scouts and spies kept the 
Confederate general well informed of what was going on in his adver- 
saries' camp and at the national capital. 

On the 3d of June, the Confederate army began to move from its 
position at Fredericksburg. Hooker noticed a change in the appear- 
ance of the Confederate camp and sent Sedgewick across the river 



BATTLE FIEL DS AND CAMP FIRES. 197 

to investigate. But aJtl,ough by this~^^^^^7Z^:,;:^^^r^^^;^~^y 
were on the. way nortinvard, the one division ti.at regained under 
command of D. H. Hill saUied out of its trenehes and met Sedgewick 

foree ni the enemy s camp was not materially decreased 

_ Two or three days later, as the indications of some great and 
dec.s,ve movement on the part of the enemy multiplied, Hooker sen 
Gen. Pleasonton. with al. the Union cavalry, up the riv r toward Cu, 

that'lte ber°d"f "• ^' "" ^^"^ '™^ '^^ ^-' ^^^ '° ^^-'^'"S^o 

e Raoo h" t r "" ^°"'^-P'^""g - movement to the nortt, of 
the Rappahannock, leav„,g Hill at Fredericksburg. Should tl,is surmise 
prove correct, H,oker asked to be permitted to cross the RappahaZck 

c:u,d Zd : V'l "'""' '"'' ^- ^"^ «^"'- ""m >''-ev 

said: i^f^'d^nt Lmcoln a characteristic letter in which he 

"I would not take any risk of being entangled upon the river like 
an o. ,,„p d half over a fence, and liable to be torn by dor f 
and rear, w.thout a fair chance to gore one way or kick the oth:; " 
of the f'" ' ■•«-"°--ce brought on a spirited cavalry battle one 

of the few encounters in the Civil War in which two bodL of horse 

zir, :r t '" ''^"''-"-''^"'' «^''""»" -"^ «- -b- » 

cava r't C ,' '"k " '""' '''' ''' '''°'^ °' ""= ^onfedera 

cava y at Culpepper, where it was reviewed by General Lee Stuart 

^n ;::;'" r ''""''■ '™'"'= ^"-"^ -'-- °' «--— 

le. L e t : '■•"' "'^^ "^'"^ ^^""P^" -'">' P-t the spot 

e ,ea bv t. Tr'^' ,'" '" "^'- ^'^^" ^^'■^'^'""S into an open 
held near by, the whole cavalcade charged up a slope from the crest of 

: : i: ofT^ °^f "^"' "°^^= ^^""^^^ -- ^'-'"^ -^ -S « 

mnn^ry of war. Pleasonton's squadrons were even then on the road 
to Culpepper and hearing the thunder of the cannonade wond red 

the FedV'l nr"' "' ~""'" '" '"<= ^""-y^ "-• Next m ng 
the Federals fell upon Stuart at Brandy Station, and a fierce battle fol 



108 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

lowed. Squadrons of cavalry numbering thousands of riders were 
hurled against each other. Carbines and pistols, as soon as fired, were 
thrown away and the battle was fought out with cold steel. The 
ground shook beneath the tread of the thousands of galloping horses. 
Clouds of dust floated in air and obscured the scene of the battle. 
From neighboring hills the guns of Stuart's horse artillery roared and 
were answered by the cannon which accompanied the Union forces. 
For a time the advantages were with the Federals. They rode down 
the Confederate squadrons, fought their way to the Confederate guns, 
sabred the cannoneers, captured Stuart's headquarters and a box filled 
with valuable papers. Then fresh troops came to the aid of the Con- 
federates. From three sides heavy battalions of horse thundered down 
on the front and the flanks of the Federals. The guns were recaptured 
and turned on their former captors. The Union gunners in their turn 
found themselves overwhelmed by a torrent of mounted men. The 
whole course of battle was changed, and a few minutes saw the Federals 
hastily retreating leaving three cannon behind as trophies for Stuart. 
The battle had been short, but it was bloody. About 600 fell on each 
side, and thereafter the sneering question "Who ever saw a dead 
cavalryman?" was not heard in either army. 

This engagement in no way checked Lee's movement toward Penn- 
sylvania, and he continued to withdraw his troops from in front of 
Hooker and send them north by way of the Shenandoah valley. The 
seemingly foolhardy manner in which he dispersed his army suggests 
that he must have had great confidence in the inertness of his adver- 
sary. On the 13th of June part of Ewell's division was at Martinsburg, 
West Virginia, and part at Winchester, Longstreet and Stuart were at 
Culpepper, and Hill was still in front of Hooker. It was on this day 
that President Lincoln wrote to Hooker. 

"If the head of Lee's army is at Martinsburg, and the tail of it on 
the plank road between Fredericksburg and Chancellorsvillc, the animal 
must be very slim somewhere — could you not break him?" 

Good military advice this, and seemingly in accordance with 




CHARGE OF UNION CAVALRY, BRANDY STATION. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 201 



Hooker's already expressed ideas. But for some reason or other the 
general took no notice of the suggestion at this time. 

It was now evident to all that the Confederates had begun a 
great northward march; indeed, among the papers which Pleasonton's 
men had captured at Stuart's headquarters, were letters and memor- 
anda outlining the routes to be followed in the invasion of Penn- 
sylvania. Whether it was Lee's purpose, however, to swing around 
and take Washington in the rear, or make a descent upon Baltimore, 
was still doubtful, and the Army of the Potomac was accordingly 
concentrated around Manassas Junction to wait there until some move- 
ment should reveal the enemy's true purpose. 

The Federals were not left long in doubt. The telegraph soon 
began to bring to Washington the reports of Ewell's progress down the 
Shenandoah Valley. On the 15th of June, one portion of his troops 
drove the Union forces under Milroy from Winchester after a sharp 
fight. On the 17th Harper's Ferry was menaced, and the Union 
troops there, remembering the ease with which the place had been 
taken by Stonewall Jackson, abandoned the post and sought refuge 
on the other side of the river. Thus, in a campaign of but a few 
days, Ewell swept the Shenandoah Valley clear of Union troops, cap- 
turing in the operation 400 prisoners, 28 cannon, 11 stand of colors, 
300 wagons, and an immense number of horses and mules. The total 
Confederate loss was 269 men. 

Wholly unchecked in their advance, the Confederates pressed on to 
the northward. Longstreet and Hill followed close behind Ewell. 
A squadron of flying cavalry under Jenkins was in the van, and raided 
into Pennsylvania as far as Chambersburg, burning bridges and tear- 
ing up railroads, and bringing back to Hagerstown, where Lee's army 
was to rendezvous, hundreds of horses, great quantities of supplies, and 
not a few kidnapped negroes. By the 24th the whole af the Con- 
federate army save Stuart's cavalry was north of the Potomac, while 
Ewell was far ahead in the outskirts of Harrisburg, and by his bold 
advance carrying terror to Philadelphia and even to New York. All 



202 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Pennsylvania was panic-stricken. Though the Governor issued a proc- 
lamation calling the people to arms, there was a sad dearth of volun- 
teers. It is worth noting that the first company that marched to the 
defense of Harrisburg was made up of students of the Pennsylvania 
College — sixty mere striplings led by a theological student. All through 
the country which lay in the path of the invading army, the people 
were hurriedly sending away their horses and cattle, their grain and 
fruit, their household goods, money, and portable property generally. 
Nor was the panic confined to the people of the rural districts in Lee's 
immediate front. In Philadelphia many bankers hastened to send the 
treasures from their vaults to New York for safe-keeping. Ladies sent 
away their jewels and families their plate. Not even New York was 
considered safe, and goods were sent to Boston and to Albany. A 
proclamation by the Mayor closed all the manufactories, workshops, and 
stores of Philadelphia, and sent the people of the city out into the 
suburbs to build earthworks. Baltimore did likewise, and the police 
of the city impressed into the service over a thousand negroes, slaves 
and freedmen alike, and put them to work in the trenches. Even 
Washington was not wholly exempt from panic, though the people 
there enjoyed the consoling thought that the government would never 
allow the national capital to be entered by the enemy so long as a 
single regiment could be rallied to its defense. 

Meantime the long, dense columns of men in gray were moving 
rapidly northward over the level roads and green fields of Pennsyl- 
vania. Ewell kept far in advance, having nothing to fear, as there 
were no troops save raw militia in his neighborhood. He made heavy 
demands for supplies upon the towns through which he passed. 
From the town of Chambersburg he required 5000 suits of clothing, 
ten tons of leather, five tons of horseshoes, 5000 bushels of oats, 
three tons of lead, one thousand currycombs, 500 barrels of flour and 
all the ammunition in town. At York the demands of the Con- 
federates were equally heavy, and there was actually paid over to 
them $28,000 in cash, 200 barrels of flour, 40,000 pounds of fresh 
beef, 30,000 bushels of corn, and looo pairs of shoes. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 203 

But though the heavy demands made by Ewell upon the people 
of the captured towns were perfectly justified by the laws of war, 
the precedent set by him was not that which guided the Confederate 
army as a whole in its actions while in an enemy's country. The 
moderation, the humanity, the regard for the rights of property shown 
by these half-starved Southerners in a land overflowing with plenty 
must ever be memorable. "The duties exacted of us by civilization 
and Christianity," said Lee, in an order directing his troops to abstain 
from all rapine and pillage, "are not less obligatory in the country of 
the enemy than in our own. The commanding general therefore earn- 
estly exhorts the troops to abstain with most scrupulous care from 
unnecessary or wanton injury to private property; and he enjoins upon 
all officers to arrest and bring to summary punishment all who shall in 
any way offend against his orders on this subject." 

Almost universal obedience was paid both to the letter and the 
spirit of this order. The Southern army marched through lanes 
bordered on either side by fruit-trees with heavy-laden boughs, past 
barn-yards and pigstys that made the alert foragers yearn for an 
opportunity to show their peculiar skill, and by herds of cattle that 
brought visions of luscious steaks to the eyes of the hungry soldiers; 
yet seldom was any thieving committed. "By way of giving the devil 
his due," wrote the correspondent of a northern newspaper concerning 
Gen. Jenkins, who commanded Early's cavalry, "it must be said that 
although there were over sixty acres of wheat, and eighty acres of 
corn in the same field he protected it most carefully, and picketed his 
horses so that it could not be injured. No fences were wantonly 
destroyed, poultry was not disturbed, nor did he compliment our 
blooded cattle so much as to test the quality of their steak and roast." 

On the 29th of June the Confederate army of invasion reached the 
limit of its northward march. Early was on the banks of the Sus- 
quehanna at Wrightsville, whither he had been sent with orders to seize 
and hold the magnificent bridge which spans the broad river at that 
point. In this purpose he was balked, for the Federal commander at 



204 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



the place set the torch to the structure, and when Early arrived it was 
a bridge of flame. The rest of Ewell's corps marched upon Marris- 
burg, antl Jenkins's cavalry, which led the advance, was already skirmish- 
ing in the suburbs of the Pennsylvania capital, when orders arrived 
from Lee directing all the troops to form a junction at Cashtown. 
At this moment Longstreet and Hill were near Chambersburg, while 
Stuart was some thirty miles from Baltimore engaged in a third ride 
round the y\rmy of the Potomac, an exploit which he performed, but 
which cost the Confederacy dear. 

What was it, then, that led Lee to thus suddenly check his 
northward march and call back his advance corps? Let us con- 
sider the course of the Army of the Potomac since the last of Hill's 
regiments disap[)eared in the Shenandoah Valley, and we shall find an 
explanation. 

Hooker had kept a vigilant watch upon the movements of the 
Confederate army. Almost at the same moment when Longstreet 
and Hill were crossing the Potomac, the Union army was crossing 
further down stream. Once north of the river Hooker proposed 
immediate measures to check Lee's movement. The chief of these 
was an expedition of the Twelfth corps along the north bank of the 
river, picking up the garrison of Harper's Ferry from its camp on 
Maryland Heights, cutting Lee's communications with Virginia and 
attacking him in the rear. This plan, an excellent one, as the sequel 
will show, met no favor with General Ilalleck, and he curtly refused 
to allow Hooker to move the Harper's P'^erry garrison from its place. 
As Hooker had but a few days before been invested with the com- 
mand of the troops at Harper's P^erry, he considered that he "was not 
allowed to maneuver his own army in the presence of the enemy," and 
asked to be relieved of his command. His request was granted, and 
on the 27th of June General Hooker with great and unfeigned emotion 
bade farewell to the Army of the Potomac. That his resignation was 
forced upon him by deliberate and willful persecution by General Hal- 
Icck there can be no doubt. When, after a short stay in Baltimore, 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 205 



the deposed soldier visited Washington, the War Department subjected 
him to a final indignity by putting him under arrest for having visited 
the city without permission. 

To Hooker there succeeded Major-General George C. Meade. That 
he sought the promotion does not appear, and indeed he must have 
accepted it with some hesitancy, knowing- that a great battle was 
impending. Nevertheless he quickly familiarized himself with Hooker's 
plans, and as the Army of the Potomac had changed commanders too 
often to be seriously disturbed by missing a familiar face at head- 
quarters, it soon appeared that in this instance President Lincoln's 
homely maxim, "It's a bad time to swap horses when you're cross- 
ing a stream," did not apply. 

Meade therefore became commander of the Army of the Potomac. 
The enemy, exultant, with full ranks, with the memory of two notable 
victories still fresh, buoyant with the enthusiasm of invasion, was in his 
front. He had to overtake that enemy; bring him to bay, fight him, 
and beat him. A victory was essential for the preservation of the 
Union. Even to-day, knowing as we do the wonderful resources of 
the North in that hour of civil combat, and the marvelous willingness 
with which those resources were expended, we still believe that had 
Lee won a victory at Gettysburg the Union must almost infallibly have 
gone to pieces. In 1863 people North and South alike were sure that 
one more defeat for the Army of the Potomac meant the complete 
triumph of the Confederacy. 

General Meade felt the heavy responsibility that rested upon his 
shoulders, and went about his work as one who had determined to 
leave no means unemployed to win a victory. It is worthy of note 
that his very first act was to withdraw the Harper's Ferry garrison and 
order it to Frederick, where on the 28th of June his army concentrated. 
For this act, the suggestion of which a few days before had cost 
Hooker his command, no word of censure came to Meade from the 
War Department. 

On the 29th the Army of the Potomac marched from Frederick 



206 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

into Pennsylvania, moving almost due north by several parallel roads. 
It was not long before the enemy was encountered. 

Incredible as it may seem, it is none the less true that up to this 
moment General Lee was ignorant of the advance of his adversaries, 
and supposed the Army of the Potomac to be still resting quietly in 
its., camp south of the Potomac River. The absence of Stuart on his 
ill-timed raid deprived the Confederate general of the use of the 
"eyes of the army," as the cavalry has been termed, and he was com- 
pletely in the dark as to his enemy's position. A spy whom Long- 
street had sent out before leaving Virginia first brought the news 
that the Federals were concentrating at Frederick. The news alarmed 
Lee, for he saw his communications with Virginia endangered. So 
far as subsistence for his men was concerned this danger gave him 
no uneasiness, for he was in the midst of a rich country, off of 
which his army could well live. But with his line of communication 
with Richmond cut, he could get no more powder and shot. One 
great battle would exhaust the store he had on hand, and his army 
would then be helpless in a hostile country. It was for this that 
Lee in haste recalled Ewell from the banks of the Susquehanna, and 
concentrating his army at Cashtown, set about investigating the reports 
of danger in his rear. 

On the 30th of June, Pettigrew's brigade of Hill's corps, being 
very ill-shod, was sent to the little town of Gettysburg to make 
requisition upon the inhabitants for a sufficient supply of shoes. 
After a few hours Pettigrew returned reporting that he had found 
Gettysburg occupied by a heavy force of Federals. On receipt of 
this news Hill notified Lee that on the morrow he would take his 
corps to Gettysburg, and give battle to the enemy's force there. 
From this accidental turn of affairs the little village of Gettysburg 
became the scene of a great battle, one of the decisive conflicts that 
have marked epochs in the history of the world. 

Let us consider for a moment the topography of the region in 
which the two great armies, each made up of the flower of the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 207 

section that it represents, are to clinch in mortal combat. Gettys- 
burg, the village which gives its name to the battle, is a little country 
town, quiet, dull, far from the great highways of trade and commerce. 
Some military importance it had, because of the many good roads 
concentrating there, and this fact had led General Meade to send 
General Buford to take possession of the place. It was Buford's Qut- 
posts that Pettigrew had seen on the day before. Two streams flowing 
almost parallel in a north and south course drain the fertile fields about 
Gettysburg. The one to the west of the town is called Willoughby 
Run ; that to the east is Rock Creek. Chains of hills — ridges they 
called them — also cluster about the town extending north and south. 
Directly west of the village, lying between its outskirts and the banks 
of Willoughby Run, is Seminary Ridge, so called from the dome- 
crowned building of the Lutheran seminary that stood upon its crest. 
Directly south of the city is Cemetery Ridge, on the grassy slopes of 
which the town burial-ground is situated. A ponderous gateway in 
the style of a triumphal arch formed the entrance to the cemetery 
and was a prominent feature in the landscape. West of the southern 
end of Cemetery Ridge was the peach orchard of Farmer Sherfy. 
At the very southern end of Cemetery Ridge two bold hillocks rise 
above the level of the surrounding hills. Round Top, the southern- 
most and larger of the two is called ; Little Round Top the other. 
Just east of the town sloping down to Rock Creek is Gulp's Hill. 

With the situation of these landmarks well fixed in the mind 
it becomes comparatively easy to understand just how the two armies 
moved, and where they clashed on those three bloody days that 
ushered in July, 1863. 

The night of the 30th of June saw the crest of Seminary Ridge 
held by Buford's troops. Reynolds's division was on its way to 
Buford's support, but still a few miles away. Hill's Confederate divi- 
sion meanwhile was moving upon Gettysburg with the intention of driv- 
ing away the militia force which it was supposed was holding the place, 
for at that time none of the Confederate commanders thought the 



208 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Army of the Potomac was hanging so closely upon the flank of the 
Army of Northern Virginia. 

At eight o'clock in the morning the crack of a musket down the 
road, in the direction of the pickets, set the drums rolling in Buford's 
camp. Another shot followed, then a volley, and the pickets began 
pouring in with the report that the enemy was advancing in force. 
Buford sent off couriers to Reynolds begging him to hasten his 
advance, and in the mean time posted his dismounted troopers wherever 
the ground gave promise of success against an enemy of overpowering 
numbers. The Confederates for their part were sluggish. They 
expected nothing but a skirmish. It was no part of General Lee's plan 
to fight an offensive battle.' So Hill's men planted a famous Virginia 
battery to shell the woods in which Buford's lines were arrayed, and 
set themselves leisurely to the task of driving from the crest of the 
ridge the few Yankee militiamen whom they expected to meet. 

Meantime Buford himself mounted into the cupola of the semi- 
nary and scanned the country anxiously for signs of coming aid. He 
had not long to wait. Scarce an hour had elapsed from the moment 
the first shot was fired, when Reynolds's division began to come up, 
and its commander, having galloped on in advance, clambered up the 
seminary stairs to join Buford in his observations. The newly arrived 
troops deployed and pushed on into the thick of tjie fight. It so 
happened that a clump of woods which filled the triangular space 
between two converging roads was the position which both armies 
strove most fiercely to gain and hold. Archer's Confederate brigade, 
and Meredith's brigade, known as the "Iron Brigade," rushed at each 
other. The contest was sharp but the blue-coats carried the posi- 
tion, captured Archer himself and a large part of his brigade and 
swept the rest away on the run. The astonished Confederates, who 
had expected to meet only militia, shouted in dismay: "'Taint no 

militia. It's the black-hatted fellows again. It's the Army of the 

Potomac." The chagrin of the rank and file of Archer's brigade, on 
finding themselves opposed by veterans, extended to their commander. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 209 



After being captured he was taken to General Doubleday, who had 
been his classmate at West Point. "Good-morning, Archer," said 
Doubleday blandly, 'T am glad to see you." 

"Well I'm not glad to see you," responded the prisoner in high 

dudgeon. "Not by a sight." 

But while the gallant charge of the Iron Brigade had won much for 
the Union army, it cost the army dear in one respect. General Rey- 
nolds, who accompanied the brigade, was shot through the head by a 
Confederate sharpshooter and instantly killed. General Doubleday suc- 
ceeded to the command. He found that, on the left of the line of 
battle, the brilliant charge had made everything favorable for the Union 
arms, but on the right disaster was impending. Two New York regi- 
ments posted there had been outflanked, surrounded, and nearly cut 
to pieces. Hall's battery had narrowly escaped capture, and had fled 
with a loss of one gun. The triumphant yells of the Confederates, 
no less than the reports brought to him by excited aides, convinced 
Doubleday that the situation was rapidly becoming serious. He 
sent over to that part of the field his reserve force, which arrived 
in the very nick of time to catch the enemy on the flank. The 
Confederates, who had been hotly pursuing their disorganized adver- 
saries, were seized with panic at this attack from an unsuspected 
quarter, and rushed into a railway cut which seemed to promise shel- 
ter. But their refuge proved their destruction, for the blue-coats 
seized both ends of the cut, and the unhappy Mississippians, caught 
like rats in a trap, were forced to surrender at discretion. The few 
that escaped drifted back to the banks of Willoughby Run, where 
Heth was re-forming. 

Then for a time a calm succeeded the storm of battle. The strug- 
gle of the morning was over, and the two gladiators were tightening 
their harness and sharpening their weapons for the fiercer combat of 
the afternoon. Thus far the advantage rested with the Federals, 
but General Howard, who came galloping up about eleven o'clock to 
take command of the field, had ample reason to look forward to the 



lmo battle fields and camp fires. 

afternoon's fight with anxiety. He had only the I'^irst and Eleventh 
corps with him— about 20,ooo men in all. The Confederates on the 
field outnumbered him, and additional forces were coming up to their 
aid. In position alone did the Army of the Potomac hold any 
advantage. Meredith held the triangular patch of woods which had 
been so gallantly won. Steinwehr, with two batteries, was posted on 
Cemetery Hill, a superb position whence the cannon could sweep all 
the country round about. This spot Howard designated as the rallying 
point in case of disaster. Seminary Ridge was held by the First 
Corps, now under Doubleday's command, while the Eleventh Corps 
under General Carl Schurz was on the plain north of the town, aligned 
at a right angle to Doubleday's troops and facing north. 

It was while these troops were marching along the roads and 
through the fields to their designated stations, that a little old man, 
wearing a swallow-tailed coat with smooth, bright, brass buttons, came 
up alongside of the Seventh Wisconsin regiment, and fell in step 
with the men of Company N. The men in the ranks began to 
make fun of him. 

"Better quit this crowd, old fellow," said one. "The fighting 
will be hot where we are going." 

"I know how to fight," responded the old man earnesth'; "I have 
fit before." 

"Where's your cartridge box?" sung out one of the company wits. 
"You'll need something to put in your gun when you get down 
yonder." 

"I've got plenty of cartridges in here," was the answer, as the old 
fellow slapped his trousers pocket. "I can get my hands in here 
quicker than in a box. I'm not used to them new-fangled things." 

By a little questioning the soldiers found out that their strange 
companion was John Burns, a Gettysburg farmer. The rebels had 
driven awa\- his cows, he said, and he proposed to seek vengeance on 
the battle field. When the first volley came the soldiers looked around 
to see their civilian friend run away, but he stood his ground bravely 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 211 

and fought until three wounds gave him ample excuse for seeking 
the rear. 

The battle was reopened by the Confederates about two o'clock 
by a general assault on the Union First Corps. The batteries 
thundered from all the adjacent hill-tops, and an especially destructive 
fire which a hitherto unsuspected battery opened upon the right flank 
of Doubleday's line from Oak Hill, told the Federals that Ewell, 
whose arrival had been momentarily expected, had come at last, and 
was advancing upon them from the north. Rodes's division was in 
the van of Ewell's corps, and swung around to join the left flank of 
Hill's line. In so doing it clashed with the right of Doubleday's 
line, and he did not get away without some deep scars. There was 
bitter fighting in the farmyard and garden of Farmer McLain, and 
the stone walls and fences sheltered swarms of skirmishers whose 
bullets whizzed through the air like angry bees. 

It was not far from this farmhouse that Iverson's brigade of 
South Carolinians made its way into a trap whence scarcely a quar- 
ter of it came out again. While gallantly advancing against a stone 
wall which sheltered a heavy Union force the Carolinians failed to 
notice the stealthy advance of a formidable body of blue-coats on 
their flank. All unsuspecting of danger from that quarter, the assail- 
ants pressed on gallantly breasting the storm of bullets, all eyes fixed 
on the wall they seek to carry, all hearts intent on setting the Stars 
and Bars where the general has ordered them established. Suddenly 
from the flank comes a thunderous volley and the men fall in rows. 
The Union brigade behind the stone wall rises and pours in its vol- 
ley with deadly aim. The cross-fire does its work well. When the 
smoke blows away, only disorganized groups and squads of Confeder- 
ates are seen standing where a moment before were well drilled and 
disciplined battalions pressing forward eagerly and confident of victory. 
It needed then no order for the Union troops to understand what to 
do. On the spur of the moment the soldiers leap the stone wall and 
rush down upon the bewildered men who stand amid the rows of 



212 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

dead. There is no resistance. White handkerchiefs appear all along 
the Confederate line, and what is left of Iverson's brigade is very- 
soon disarmed and on its way to the Union rear. "The enemy 
charged," said Iverson in his official report, " in overwhelming force and 
captured nearly all that were left unhurt of the three regiments of 
my brigade. When I saw white handkerchiefs raised and my line 
of battle still lying down in position, I characterized the surrender as 
disgraceful ; but when afterward I found that five hundred of my 
men were left lying dead and wounded, and in a line as straight as 
a dress parade, I exonerated the survivors and claim that they nobly 
fought and died without a man running to the rear." 

Rut save for this notable bit of success, little triumph came to 
the Union arms that day. Everywhere the Confederates attacked in 
irresistible force. Ewell's troops went into the fight as fast as they 
arrived, and each fresh battalion added to the telling superiority of 
the Confederates in numbers. On the right of the Union line, the 
fighing was fiercest, for it was against that point that Ewell's rapidly 
arriving battalions were hurled as fast as they came up. It was there 
that one of the noblest types of the American soldier — Lieutenant 
Bayard Wilkcson — mot his death in gallantly withstanding the persis- 
tent Confederate advance. Lieutenant Wilkeson was but a lad in 
years. When but seventeen years old he had received his commis- 
sion. Two years he had spent in active service on the field. At 
Fredericksburg and at Chancellorsville he had smelt gunpowder and 
learned to look with calmness on wounds and death. He had long 
been the ranking officer in his battery, and had brought the soldiers 
under his command to so high a degree of proficiency and disci- 
pline that men forgot his youth in admiration of his soldierly ability. 

So it happened that on this first day of the great battle, which 
was to prove the turning point in the war for the Union, the task of 
holding one of the most critical and decisive positions was left to this 
nineteen-year-old soldier. Four guns he had — light twelve-pound field 
pieces. With these he plunged gallantly into the conflict and for a 




WILKESON AT GETTYSBURG. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 215 

time held in check the advancing troops of General Gordon. But the 
Confederate commander, soon discovering that his infantry was making 
no headway against Wilkeson's telling fire, brought up two batteries and 
posting them on a commanding hill ordered the cannoneers to silence 
or to drive away the spiteful little Union battery that was working 
such havoc in his ranks. Twelve guns were turned on Wilkeson's four 
cannon, and as the Confederate battery was posted on a hill which 
towered above the knoll on which his guns were posted the advantage 
of position, as well as in weight of metal, rested with the enemy. 
But though the solid shot and shell fell thick and fast among his guns 
and artillerymen, Wilkeson never faltered. Bestriding his well-trained 
horse, he rode about among the guns, speaking a word of encourage- 
ment here, giving an order there, never once losing his complete self- 
possession, and everywhere cheering his men up by his display of calm 
courage. Finally, seeing that the situation was becoming desperate, 
he spurred his horse to the front and sat there immovable and statu- 
esque, seeking by this means to inspire his men with confidence. 
Animated by their commander's daring example, the men of the bat- 
tery worked their guns with such rapidity and precision that the 
utmost efforts of the Confederate infantry failed to force the battery 
from its position. Through their field-glasses the ofificers of the 
Confederate artillery could clearly see that it was Wilkeson who was 
thus doggedly holding the Union cannoneers to their work. General 
Gordon himself pressed forward to discover what it was that thus 
delayed the advance of his lines. It needed but a glance to con- 
vince him that if the officer who so defiantly rode about among the 
Union guns could be disabled, the battery would soon be silenced. 

"Turn your guns on that fellow on horseback," he said to the 
Confederate artillerymen. "When he is out of the way we can 
silence his cannon." 

With twelve guns turned upon him Wilkeson could not long go 
unscathed. A rifle-shot struck his leg, cutting and tearing the flesh 
and shattering the bone. His horse fell to the ground with him. His 



210 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

comrades picked him up and started to bear him to the rear, but 
he ordered them to lay him on the <jround where he could watch 
the progress of the conflict. No surgeon was on the field, and with 
his own hand the wounded youth twisted a handkerchief about his 
mangled limb to serve for a tourniquet, and with a jack-knife cut 
away the lacerated flesh and shattered bones of the leg. Fever 
came upon him and parching thirst took possession of him. An 
artilleryman went back to the well at the Almshouse, a few rods to 
the rear, and brought thence a canteen of cool water. Wilkeson's 
eyes brightened as he saw the messenger return with the water, but 
just as he took the canteen and was raising it eagerly to his lips, 
a wounded soldier lying near cried. "For God's sake give me some." 
Unmindful of his own suffering the young officer handed the canteen 
to his wounded neighbor, who drank greedily every drop it contained. 
Wilkeson smiled on the man, turned slightly, and was dead in a few 
minutes. 

It was not long after Wilkeson was disabled when his battery 
was swept away, and soon thereafter it was evident that the Con- 
federates were carrying all before them. On the right of the Union 
line, at the corner where the Eleventh and First corps joined in a 
right angle, everywhere save at one point where the blue-coats were 
stubbornly holding a position on Seminary Ridge, the Union lines 
were crumbling away, and stragglers in squads, and companies and 
regiments in fairly good order were marching away from the foe 
through the streets of Gettysburg. It looked at the moment as 
though the history of Fredericksburg and of Chancellorsville was to 
be repeated on the soil of Pennsylvania. 

The First Corps, driven from its advanced position, had secured 
a strong position on Seminary Ridge, where behind a breastwork of 
rails the soldiers set their faces firmly toward the foe and for a time 
stayed his further progress. The corps had suffered dreadfully dur- 
ing the day's battle. In Wadsworth and Rowley's divisions full half 
the men were cither killed or wounded. The Twenty-fourth Michigan 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 217 

had six color-bearers killed, among them the colonel of the regiment 
himself. General Paul was desperately wounded, a Confederate bullet 
passing through both of his eyes. But despite its losses the corps 
maintained its organization, and held its slender breastwork of rails 
against all comers for some time. Scales and Pender assaulted the 
position several times only to be driven back. In his report Scales 
declares that one time his line came within seventy-five feet of the 
Union works, and adds: "Here the fire was most severe. Every 
field-ofiicer but one was killed or wounded." Not until the increas- 
ing numbers of the Confederates enabled them to stretch out and 
envelope the Union line on both flanks, did the gallant defenders of 
Seminary Ridge abandon their position, and retreat sullenly through 
the town toward Cemetery Ridge, whither all the shattered remnants 
of the Eleventh Corps were already proceeding. "As we passed 
through the town," writes General Doubleday, "pale and frightened 
women came out and offered us coffee and food, and implored us 
not to abandon them." 

This, then, was the situation at sundown of July i. The Fede- 
rals had been driven from all their positions, to the position on the 
crest of Cemetery Ridge, where their reserves had been stationed 
throughout the battle, and which had been designated as the point 
at which the army should concentrate in case of defeat. General 
Hancock had arrived upon the field, with orders from Meade to take 
supreme command. He was well known to the Union troops, and 
his arrival inspired them with confidence, for they knew that if 
Hancock was on the field his division could not be far away. In 
fact the whole Union army was by this time within a few miles of 
the battle field. The Twelfth Corps under Slocum arrived about 
sundown and took up its position on Gulp's Hill. The second corps 
arrived before midnight. The Third Corps was on the march all 
night and reached the field by eight o'clock the next morning. The 
Fifth and Sixth corps were still far away. 

On the Confederate side the divisions of Hill and Ewcll were 



218 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

up before sundown of the first day, while Longstreet reached the 
field during the night. 

When on the afternoon of the first day the Union troops began 
their retreat to Cemetery Hill, the Confederates were in overwhelming 
numbers. General Lee, who had then just reached the field, saw clearly 
the advantage of numbers that his men then enjoyed, and discerned 
with equal certainty the vast advantage of position that the Federals 
would possess were they allowed to retain possession of Cemetery Hill. 
Accordingly he sent a courier to General Ewell directing him to 
assault the Union position if in his estimation a successful attack was 
practicable. But Ewell concluded that the assault would be hazardous, 
and accordingly failed to order it. Whether the attack could have 
been made successfully is indeed doubtful, but the fact remains that 
the retention of the position on the crest of Cemetery Hill enabled 
the Army of the Potomac during the next two days, not only to 
hold its ground against the most determined assaults of its enemies, 
but also to inflict upon Lee's army such prodigious damages as 
weakened that organization forever after. The power of the Con- 
federacy was hopelessly crippled by the losses sustained in the vain 
attempts to carry Cemetery Hill in the battles of the second and 
third of July. 

Therefore it is that though we find that during the first day's 
conflict the Confederates finally drove the Federals from every posi- 
tion which they actually tried to carry, and though the loss inflicted 
upon the Union forces \vas far in excess of that suffered by the 
men of the South, yet we cannot look upon the result of the day's 
fighting as a triumph for the Confederacy. The one commanding, 
decisive position on the field of battle remained in the hands of the 
Federals, and the history of the battles of the next two days will show 
that the posession of that position alone was worth all of the successes 
won by the Confederates on the first day of the battle of Gettysburg. 

The story of the first day's battle is replete with exciting and 
romantic incidents. To tell of all the notable displays of personal 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 219 

courage on both sides would alone require a volume. Some few 
anecdotes, however, may be interesting. 

Three such stories we quote upon the authority of General 
Doubleday. "Colonel Wheelock of the Ninty-seventh New York 
was cut off during the retreat of Robinson's divisions, and took 
refuge in a house," writes Doubleday. "A rebel lieutenant entered 
and called upon him to deliver his sword. This he declined to do, 
whereupon the lieutenant called in several of his men, formed them 
in line, took out his watch and said to the colonel : 'You are an 
old, gray-headed man and I dislike to kill you, but if you don't give 
up that sword in five minutes I shall order these men to blow your 
brains out.' When the time was up the colonel still refused to 
surrender. A sudden tumult at the door, caused by some prisoners 
attempting to escape, called the lieutenant off for a moment. When 
he returned the colonel had given up his sword to a girl in the house 
who had asked him for it, and she secreted it between two mattresses. 
He was then marched to the rear, but, being negligently guarded, 
escaped the same night and returned to his regiment." 

Another incident which fell under General Doubleday's personal 
observation was the death of a mounted ofificer who came galloping up 
to Colonel Dawes of the Sixth Wisconsin regiment. From the man's 
firm carriage and composed demeanor the colonel thought that he came 
for orders, but the next moment was undeceived, for tearing open his 
vest the ofificer showed a gaping wound in his breast, and gasping 
out: "Tell them at home that I died like a man and a soldier," fell 
dead at the colonel's feet. 

General A. P. Hill in his report bears testimony to the gallantry 
of some of the Union men who fought against him on that day. 
"A Yankee color-bearer floated his standard in the field," he writes, 
"and the regiment fought around it; and when at last it was obliged 
to retreat, the color-bearer went last of all, turning round now and then 
to shake his fist in the face of the advancing rebels. I was sorry when 
I saw him meet his doom." And General Doubleday tells of an 



220 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

artilleryman who was driving off with one of the guns of Stewart's 
battery just as the Confederates swooped down upon him. A Con- 
federate officer, with his hand on the cannon, and his pistol within 
five feet of the driver's back, ordered him not to attempt to escape, 
but the gallant fellow lashed his horses into a gallop, and though he 
received his enemy's ball in his back, managed to carry the gun out of 
danger, falling lifeless from his saddle as soon as the Union lines 
were reached. 

But full of exciting incidents as the first day's battle was, it was 
but the prelude to a still more exciting drama, and a still more bitter 
struggle for supremacy on the field of Gettysburg. 








CHAPTER IX. 

BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. — LEE DETERMINES TO ATTACK. — LONGSTREET's PRO- 
TEST. THE BATTLEFIELD. — THE STUGGLE FOR LITTLE ROUND TOP. — THE 

ATTACK ON THE PEACH ORCHARD. THE SACRIFICE OF BIGELOw's BAT- 
TERY. — THE CHARGE OF WILCOX AND WRIGHT. — THE NIGHT ASSAULT ON 
THE UNION RIGHT. — CHARGE OF THE LOUISIANA TIGERS. — BATTLE OF THE 

THIRD DAY. — PICKETT's GREAT CHARGE. — ITS REPULSE. CLOSE OF THE 

BATTLE. RETREAT OF THE CONFEDERATES. 




LL the country roads leading into Gettysburg were choked 
that July night with marching men, galloping horsemen, rum- 
bling trains of cannon, ambulances and ammunition wagons. 
From the south and east the Federals; from the north and west the 
Confederates, were pressing on to Gettysburg. Accident had brought 
the foes into collision there, but the gauntlet had been thrown down 
and picked up. On a field of neither army's choosing, the destiny of 
the nation was to be fought out. 

In the gray dawn of the 2d of July, Generals Lee and Long- 
street rode to the crest of Seminary Ridge, and, through their field- 
glasses scanned the Union position on Cemetery Hill. They saw 
the rows of cannon on the brow of the hill, the smoke of innumera- 

221 



222 ' SATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

ble camp fires marking the situation of the Union troops already on 
the ground, the clouds of dust rising above the tree-tops everywhere 
betokening the rapid concentration of a great army. 

Lee's blood was up. The successes of the day before, added to 
the almost uninterrupted series of victories won by his army when 
opposed to the Army of the Potomac, inspired him with confidence. 
He forgot that he had come into Pennsylvania with the determina- 
tion to fight none but defensive battles. The tactical superiority of 
Meade's position daunted him not a whit. 

"The enemy is there, and I am going to attack him there," he 
said with cool decision. 

Longstreet demurred. "Why not swing around to his left," said 
he, "and interpose between Meade and Washington? Then we can 
force him to give us battle on grounds of our own choosing." 

"No; they are there in position, and I am going to whip them 
or they are going to whip me." 

Lee spoke with determination, and the colloquy was ended. 

Meantime there had been some doubt in the mind of General 
Meade as to the wisdom of continuing the battle on the field of 
Gettysburg. Behind Pipe Creek, a small stream a few miles south of 
Gettysburg, the engineers of the Army of the Potomac had laid out 
a line of defense, and all Meade's strategy had been planned with the 
view of inducing Lee to fight him at that point. When Hancock 
was sent forward about the close of the first day's fighting to take 
the command, it was with orders from Meade to withdraw the army 
to the Pipe Creek line. But a staff of^cer who was present on 
Hancock's arrival declares that that officer said to General Howard 
that he had been ordered to choose the Pipe Creek line, but that 
he thought the line then occupied, extending from Gulp's Hill along 
Cemetery Ridge to Round Top, was "the strongest position by nature 
upon which to fight a battle" that he had ever seen, and accordingly 
determined to stay and fight it out there. To this decision Meade, 
upon his arrival a little after midnight, agreed. 




o 



o 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



225 



Z ',' 1 ^"'^- ^" ^'°"e "'^- --' °f Seminary Rid^e 

between the Emmitsburg and the Fairfield roads extended the Con! 
federate Ime. Longstreet was farthest south; A. P. Hill joining him 
on t e north. At Hill's right the line made a sharp bend to the easT 

on the Hanover road. The Confederate lines faced east and south 

m,Ie. Wheat-fields, pastures, peach orchards, cosy farm-houses nest- 
.ng among the trees, spacious farms well filled with garnered crops all 
old how the valley had prospered before the blight 'of war fe7up 
■t- A ,ts farther edge the plain sloped gently up to the petty accli 
v.ty called Culps H,ll, the high land which took its nameL t 
cenne ery wh.ch made its green crest glisten with white grave tones 
a the two bolder hills called Round Top and Little R^und Top 
Along th,s senes of hills extended the Union line. Its general coT 
tour was something like that of a horseshoe with unequal arml 

hghtmg of the second days battle occurred. As the battle of the 
fir t day was chiefly for the possession of Missionary Ridge so 
the second day Little Round Top was the point for which tlwa 

vLnZ f"', '""^- ^'™ '""'"'-''''- '^^ ^- - ch e t e" 
union left for his po nt of Tttanl- r u ^ 

K f. • . attack. Could he but once estabh'sh hi<; 

TZJ" T '°" c ^"^ '' -'' '-"^ '^" "- "--on lines 
Unio^ eT; , Tr"' ""'' ^"'"'=^' ^^"° "■- "-"--ed on the 

a": e'tt 'ct rr^r'^-if^": °' "-^ --- - 

always invites attack-. "'"' ™^^'^-=' '°™^"°" "^^t 

It was against this angle that General Lee ordered Longstreet to 
hur h,s corps. Meantime E.ell and Hill were to attack the Fed ra 
.n the.r .mmed.ate front to prevent Meade from sending troops from 



226 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

other parts of his Hnc to Sicklcs's aid. The order was given at night 
on the first of July, but Longstreet's attack did not come until four 
o'clock next day. We shall see that had it been made early in the 
morning Gettysburg might have been a field of sorrow for the Union. 

Here then is the battle field on which Longstreet and Sickles 
are to contend for the mastery. A straight road — the Emmitsburg 
pike — extended up the valley northeast toward Gettysburg. At a 
point about opposite Little Round Top another road intersects it, and 
in the corner thus formed was a peach orchard — a celebrated spot 
that little grove of fruit trees was destined to become, for right there 
was Sickles's angle ; the right wing of his corps extended up the 
Emmitsburg road toward Gettysburg, while the left wing extended 
down the cross road toward Little Round Top. South of this road 
is a wheat-field, and south of the wheat-field and at the base of Little 
Round Top is a craggy heap of boulders called Devil's Den. 

All day the roads were choked with Longstreet's men moving over 
toward the Union left flank. Great pains were taken to conceal the 
movement from the Federals, and in this effort much time was lost by 
choosing circuitous routes, narrow lanes, and rugged byways. Notwith- 
standing this caution the vigilant signal officers on the crest of Round 
Top signaled to General Meade that large bodies of the enemy's infan- 
try were moving toward the Union left flank. Doubtless this intelli- 
gence did much to dissuade Meade from his already half formed pur- 
pose of taking the offensive himself and assaulting Lee. 

Four o'clock found Longstreet's corps in position; Hood on the 
right, McLaws on the left. The men were in good spirits and 
eager for action. Outnumbering their immediate adversaries and 
greatly outflanking Sickles, the prospects of the Confederates for vic- 
tory were excellent. 

Fifty-four guns now begin to play upon Sickles's unfortunate 
angle in the peach orchard. The whizzing cannon-shot enfilade both 
lines. From the orchard itself and from the crests held by the 
Federals the Union guns respond with spirit. The Confederate artil- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 227 



lerymcn looked for an easy time of it, but soon discover that the 
rapidity and precision witli which the Union guns are served come 
near making amends for the disadvantages of the Federal position. 
"The fignt was longer and hotter than I expected," writes General 
Alexander, Lee's chief of artillery. "So accurate was the enemy's fire 
that two of my guns were fairly dismounted, and the loss of men was 
so great that I had to ask General Barksdale, whose brigade was lying 
down close behind in the wood, for help to handle the heavy 24- 
pounder howitzers of Moody's battery. He gave me permission to call 
for volunteers, and in a minute I had eight good fellows, of whom, alas! 
we buried two that night and sent to the hospital three others mortally 
or severely wounded." 

While the guns were roaring on both sides, and before the Con- 
federate infantry had advanced from the shelter of the woods to make 
the grand assault which all knew was coming. General Warren rode 
over from Meade's headquarters to examine Sickles's line. "I rode on 
until I came to Little Round Top," he writes. "There were no troops 
on it, and it was used as a signal station. I saw that this was the 
key to the whole position, and that our troops in the woods in front 
of it could not see the ground in front of them, so that the enemy 
would come upon them before they would be aware of it. The long 
line of woods on the west side of the Emmitsburg road (which road 
was on a ridge) furnished an excellent place for the enemy to form out 
of sight, so I requested the captain of a rifle battery just in front of 
Little Round Top to fire a shot into these woods. He did so, and as 
the shot went whistling through the air the sound of it reached the 
enemy's troops and caused every one to look in the direction of it 
This motion revealed to me the glistening of gun-barrels and bayonets 
of the enemy's line of battle already formed and far outflanking the 
position of any of our own troops, so that the line of his advance 
from his right to Little Round Top was unopposed." 

Startled by this discovery, Warren sent a courier galloping to 
General Meade with an earnest request that a division at least be 



228 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

sent to hold Little Round Top. ]\Ieantime he tried to hold the 
hill-top by strategy. He saw a large part of Hood's division advanc- 
ing upon him — for Hood was aware of the defenseless condition of 
Little Round Top and was anxious to seize upon it — and he knew 
that his time for preparation was short. So telling the signal officer, 
who alone occupied the crest of the hill, to keep waving his flags 
as though signaling to a heavy force in the rear, Warren picked his 
way down the steep hillside covered with stones, to where he saw a 
body of Union troops marching along the road toward the peach 
orchard. The troops proved to be Warren's old brigade. General 
Weed, who then commanded it, had gone on ahead, but Warren con- 
vinced Colonel O'Rorke of the vital importance of Little Round Top, 
and took upon himself the responsibility of detaching O'Rorke's 
regiment from the marching column and hurrying it to the crest of 
the hill. 

Meantime, unknown to Warren, Colonel Vincent with a brigade of 
the Fifth Corps was hastening to the defense of Little Round Top. 
Making no attempt to scale the hill, he posted his brigade on the 
southern slope toward which the Confederates were rapidly advancing. 
Michigan, New York, Maine and Pennsylvania troops were in Vincent's 
command. The boulders and outcropping ledges of rock with which 
the field is plentifully besprinkled greatly impeded the Confederate 
advance and afforded shelter for the defenders. Nevertheless the 
men in gray trudged boldly forward, passing through the zone of fire of 
a battery posted so as to enfilade their lines, breasting the pelting 
storm of bullets that came singing in their faces, sheltering them- 
selves behind boulders whenever occasion offered long enough to 
load and fire a hasty shot, but all the time pressing onward and 
upward toward the thin line that stood between them and the crest 
of Little Round Top. "Sometimes the Federals would hold one side 
of the large boulders on the slope until the Confederates occupied the 
other," writes General Law, whose troops were engaged in the assault. 
In some cases my men, with reckless daring, mounted to the top of 




.'k'E'' ■•^' 




CLIMBING LITTLE ROUND TCP. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 231 



the large rocks in order to get a better view and to deliver their fire 
with better effect. One of these, Sergeant Barbee of the Texas bri- 
gade, having reached a rock a little in advance of the line, stood erect 
on the top of it loading and firing as coolly as if unconscious of dan- 
ger, while the air around him was fairly swarming with bullets. He 
soon fell helpless from several wounds; but he held his rock, lying 
upon the top of it until the litter-bearers carried him off." 

So fighting their way from stone to stone the men of Law's divis- 
ion gradually made their way toward the top of the hill, forcing Vin- 
cent back before them. Near the crest the Federals made a determined 
stand. They met and repelled charges with the point of the bayonet- 
muskets were clubbed; pistols fired at point-blank range; jagged stones' 
even were used as weapons of war. Once the Twentieth Maine with a 
superb charge swept the enemy from the hill, but the ground thus 
gamed for the Union was soon lost again, for the Texans returned with 
dogged pertinacity to the assault. 

There was a reason for the stubbornness with which Vincent's men 
clung to their position. As they were forced back higher up the hill- 
side the commanding features of the position became evident to the least 
skilled soldier in the ranks. All knew that with a Confederate force 
established on the crest of the hill, the whole Union position would be 
indefensible. They knew too that reinforcements were comin^ to. 
t^ieir aid. Up the northern slope of the hill even at the moment 
ORorkes infantry was marching, followed by Hazlitfs battery Sel- 
dom were guns ever dragged over so difficult a route. The steep hill- 
side, cut up with gullies and obstructed everywhere with huge rocks 
seemed impassable for heavy cannon. But the artillerymen put their 
shoulders to the wheels, levers wielded by a score of men at a time 
were brought into play, long ropes were fastened to the gun-carriages 
at which whole companies tugged, the straining horses were skillfulh- 
guided, and so after long and strenuous effort the battery swung into 
place on the crest of the hill. 

It was none too soon. With trinmnh-mt- ,..>ii. fi n c ^ 

»viui iriumpnant yells the Confederates 



L>32 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



were breaking through Vincent's line at half a dozen points. A few- 
minutes more and they would have been in undisputed possession of 
the crest. But O'Rorke's regiment gave them a volley, and Hazlitt's 
guns' opened with canister. The assailants, already sorely weakened 
by their struggle up the slope, were dazed by this sudden and unex- 
pected addition to their enemy's ranks. They wavered but only for 
a moment, then returned to their work with renewed spirit. A 
contest at short range followed. Hazlitt's battery, which had so 
gallantly made its way to the crest of the hill, soon found that it 
could do but little execution owing to the steep slope of the hill- 
side. Still the guns were kept flashing and roaring, for the knowl- 
edge that they had artillery with them while the enemy had none 
gave added courage to the Union soldiers. Soon the short range 
fighting began to tell. Men fell fast on both sides. The gallant 
O'Rorke — only two years out of West Point — was shot dead. Gen- 
eral Weed was struck to the ground with a mortal wound, and 
groaned as he lay dying on the stony ground, "I would rather die 
here than that the rebels should gain an inch of this ground." 
Lieutenant Hazlitt bent over his dying commander to catch his last 
words, and he too fell a victim to a flying bullet and was stretched 
dead across the body of his chief. Vincent too was quickly laid low. 
Though the losses of the Federals were heavy, it soon became evident 
that the fight was going against the Confederates. Reenforcemcnts 
were necessary to enable them to hold the position they had won on 
the hill, but no reenforcemcnts came. The Federals saw the signs of 
weakness spreading in the Confederate ranks, and redoubled their efforts. 
Faster the cannon roared; the rattle of the musketry grew louder. It 
became the tur-n of the Federals to advance, and they pressed the foe 
before them down the hill, until a final grand charge by the Twentieth 
Maine swept the last Texan and the last fluttering Confederate flag 
from the slope of Little Round Top. Near the foot of the hill, amid 
the heaped-up boulders and crags that formed the rocky fastness called 
by the country folk "Devil's Den," the disappointed men of the South 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 233 



rallied, and from that position could not be dislodged. We shall see 
them on the morrow renewing, from that point of attack, the fierce and 
fruitless struggle for Little Round Top. 

While the men with muskets and cold steel had thus been strug- 
gling for the mastery on the hill-side, the battle f^eld about the peach 
orchard was shrouded in the smoke of the cannon, and the shouts of 
the soldiers and the rattle of the musketry were lost in the thunder- 
ous roar of the artillery. Eleven Confederate batteries were pouring 
a rapid and effective fire into the peach orchard, where seven Union 
batteries together with Graham's brigade of infantry were posted. 
Other Union batteries on the road by the orchard added their chorus 
to the general din. The air was full of sulphur fumes and flying 
missiles. Trees were stripped of their leaves; fences demolished. 
There seemed no chance for a living creature to pass unscathed 
through that rushing hurricane of lead and iron. 

Nevertheless in the main positions must be carried and battles 
won by the infantry. However effective a cannonade may be, its 
result are trivial unless promptly followed up by an infantry attack. 
Accordingly while the Confederate guns were . pounding away at the 
Union line, the brigades of Barksdale and Kershaw moved forward to 
the assault; fhe former directing its attacks against the angle in the 
peach orchard, the latter advancing toward the road leading east, along 
which the Union divisions of De Trobriand and Graham were arrayed 
with a cannon at almost every spot where a gun could be made effec- 
tive. 

With a tempest of missiles beating in their faces the Union sol- 
diers gallantly held their ground. Stone walls gave a partial shelter to 
the infantry, for crouched behind them the soldiers could load and fire 
their muskets while exposing but a small portion of their bodies to the 
bullets of the foe. But the cannoneers working with sponge and 
with rammer, carrying cartridges and shells, or laboriouslv shifting the 
position of their guns, were wholly unprotected, and upon' them the fire 
of the enemy's guns, which were roaring and flaming on two command- 



234 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

ing ridges, fell with fearful effect. Sturdily the blue-coats held to their 
work. More than once, when l^arksdale and Kershaw were on the very 
verge of success, did the hurtling grape-shot from the fkiming muzzles of 
the guns of Bigelow, Phillip, Ricketts, Hart, and other noted artillerists 
check them and send them sullenly back to cover. The precision with 
which the guns were served, no less than the rapidity of their fire, was 
remarkable. General McLaws declares that he knew of a single shell 
from one of these guns which burst in the center of a company of 
thirty-seven Confederates and killed or wounded thirty of them. 

But human flesh and blood, and for that matter the wood and 
iron of the cannon too, could not long withstand the enfilading of the 
Confederate batteries. The men began to fall fast among the guns. 
The batteries were soon short-handed, but the round shot from the 
enemy's cannon dismounted a gun or two and left their crews free 
to aid in working the other guns. Soon the heavy losses began to 
tell. The Union fire slackened, and Barksdale's men seized on the 
opportunity to make a rush and carry the peach orchard. Before 
them the Federals retreated slowly, firing as they went. In the 
withdrawal of the Union artillery Bigelow's battery, the Ninth Massa- 
chusetts, was particularly conspicuous. So persistently was this battery 
held to its place that, when it became evident that it must be with- 
drawn, there was no longer time to limber up for flight. "We can 
retire by prolonge," said Bigelow, and the order was soon given. 
Long ropes were stretched from the limbers to the gun-carriages, 
while the gunners all the time kept up their deadly work and the 
cannon belched out their spiteful messages of death. So with the 
horses harnessed to the limbers, and the limbers attached to the gun 
carriages by long cables, the men fought their guns until the enemy 
was near enough to threaten their capture. Then a word of com- 
mand, a cracking of whips and a rumble and rush of hoofs, and away 
went the battery a huntired yards or more. Then a halt, and the storm 
of canister was again launched full in the faces of the pursuing foe. 

So with the angle at the peach orchard broken by the concentrat- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 285 

ing attack of the Confederates, the infantry, sharpshooters, and the 
battery all fall back from the orchard and the road to a new position 
around the farm-house of Mr. Trostle, north of the road and east of 
the orchard. Here a furious encounter took place. The guns were 
planted in Trostle's dooryard. The few infantry supports that 
remained to the devoted batteries were aligned in the garden and barn- 
yard. The Confederates thought they had an easy prey before them 
and pressed on boldly. 

But the position at Trostle's was a mere outpost of the main 
Union line which was rapidly forming on the ridge behind. Still it 
was an outpost which must be held tenaciously until that line could be 
formed. 

"There is no one to support you," said McGilvery to Bigelow, "but 
you must remain and hold this ground. Sacrifice your battery if need 
be, but keep them back until I get some guns on the ridge back 
there." 

Then he galloped away, and was soon hurrying twenty-five guns 
into position. Before they could be put in place, however, the foe 
swept up in front of Bigelow's position and was not to be kept back 
by grape or shrapnel. A narrow brook — Plum Run the people there- 
abouts called it — flowed between Bigelow and the advancing enemy, 
and for a time the artillerymen with fierce energy were able to keep 
their assailants on the further side of this natural barrier. But when 
the cannoneers began to fall fast around their guns so that the fire 
of the battery slackened, one gray regiment — the Twenty-first Missis- 
sippi — pushed its way across the run and pressed on to where the 
few cannon that had not been silenced were still hoarsely booming. 
Right bravely the men of Bigelow's battery stood to their guns, while 
from the ridge behind the cannon brought up by McGilvery opened 
fire. Still the Confederates advanced. They made their way in 
among the guns, which Bigelow's men were by this time trying to drag 
from the field. Hand-to-hand fighting followed. One Confederate 
was killed while trying to spike a gun. Another was knocked down 



23C BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

with a handspike. Rammers, sponge staffs, the butts of muskets were 
all used as weapons, and the struggling crowd surged about the guns 
dealing fierce and cruel blows. Outnumbered from the start, the artil- 
lerists nevertheless fought desperately to save their pieces, but all was of 
no avail. The battery was sacrificed, as McGilvery had foreseen it might 
be when he posted it in that exposed position. Bigelow was severely 
wounded, and lay under one of the gun-carriages while the fighting went 
on around him. Of the other three commissioned officers one was 
killed and one mortally wounded. Of the 104 men who went into 
the fight 28 were killed or wounded. Eighty horses drew the battery 
to the field ; 65 of them were shot. But the bitter resistance the 
battery had opposed to the Confederate advance had had its effect, and 
when the victors swept on expecting to seize the ridge behind Bigelow's 
guns they were met with so fierce a reception from the row of cannon 
that McGilvery had by that time posted there, that all recoiled and 
drifted in confusion back to the further side of Plum Run. That 
point on the Union line was not again seriously menaced that day. 

Meantime there had been bitter fighting at all parts of the field. 
Barksdale, intrepidly leading his men, had been struck down with a 
mortal wound. He was brought into the Union lines and there died, 
says General Doubleday, "like a brave man, with dignity and resigna- 
tion." The Union troops too suffered the loss of one of their gen- 
eral ofificers, for General Sickles, while hurrying toward the peach 
orchard, was struck by a bullet which shattered his leg. The injured 
limb was afterward amputated. 

From this time forward until the day's conflict ended the Con- 
federates pushed the Union troops back steadily before them. But 
it was from no very commanding position that the men in blue 
were thus dislodged. Driven slowly from their outposts, they clung 
stubbornly to the ridge that formed the connecting line between 
Cemetery Hill and Little Round Top. That ridge was the key to 
the whole field; it was the key to the whole situation. Let the 
Confederates once gain possession of it and the Union army would 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 237 



be dismembered, cut in twain, and its communications would be in 
the hands of the enemy. This the Federals knew, and right doggedly 
did they set their teeth and oppose an unflinching front to the advanc- 
ing foe. In the work of beating back the Confederates General Han- 
cock won golden laurels. He had succeeded to General Sickles's com- 
mand when that ofificer was wounded, and set himself about the task of 
strengthening his line, patching the weak places, and encouraging the 
ofificers with such zeal, that his activity and success on this day, coupled 
with his determined resistance of the fierce Confederate charges of the 
day following, earned for him the sobriquet of "Hancock the Superb." 
General Meade too was on the field in person, exposing himself fear- 
lessly, and while so doing had his horse shot beneath him by a bullet 
which narrowly missed the rider. 

Once only was the Union control of the ridge put in serious jeo- 
pardy. The Confederate brigades of Wilcox and Wright, late in the 
evening when the twilight was deepening into night, pushed up the 
slope in the teeth of the Union fire, captured several Union guns, 
and for the moment drove the Federal defenders from their position. 
It was a moment fraught with intense peril to the Union cause. The 
center of the Federal line was pierced. The Confederates were estab- 
lished on the crest of the ridge — that ridge the possession of which 
was of vital importance to the success of Meade's plans. The victors, 
elated with triumph, began to turn upon the retreating Federals their 
captured cannon. Fleet messengers galloped away to bear to Meade 
the dire tidings that the center had been pierced. 

Rut the Confederate triumph was destined to be short-lived. 
Had Wright and Wilcox been supported the battle of Gettysburg 
would have been won for the South then and there. But though 
they held to their hard-won position with despairing tenacity there 
came no fresh regiments to their aid. And so when Webb's brigade, 
seconded by Doubleday's division, fell furiously upon them there was 
nothing to do but to fall back, sacrificing the captured guns and the 
precious position on the ridge. 



238 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

General Doubleday thus relates an incident of Wright's charge: 
"As they approached the ridge a Union battery limbered up and 
galloped off. The last gun was delayed, and the cannoneer, with a 
long line of muskets pointing at him within a few feet, deliberately 
drove off the field. The Georgians manifested their admiration for 
his bravery by crying out 'Don't shoot,' and not a musket was fired 
at him." 

After Wright was thus driven from his hard-won foothold in the 
very center of the Union position, the fury of the Confederate assaults 
in that part of the field abated greatly. Night was now fairly upon 
the field. The soldiers saw that no decisive movement could be 
accomplished before the next rising of the sun, and so the cannons' 
hoarse voices and the sharp reports of the muskets, the shrill yells 
of the Confederates and the sturdy cheers of the Union troops died 
gradually away. A sort of peace — a peace only less terrible than 
active war — reigned over the bloody slope of Little Round Top and 
the ensanguined fields about the peach orchard and the Trostle farm- 
house. 

But to other points of the field, which throughout the day had 
seen no fiercer fighting than the noisy but almost harmless long range 
artillery duel, the setting of the sun brought the fury of the charge 
and the mad turmoil of the hand-to-hand struggles of heavy detach- 
ments of infantry. 

It was late in the evening when the blue-coated defenders of the 
trenches on the northern slope of Cemetery Hill saw the Confeder- 
ate line of battle emerge from the outskirts of Gettysburg and push 
forward up the slope. It was the attack which Lee had ordered 
should be made simultaneously with Longstreet's assault upon the 
Union right. But so far from being made simultaneously, Longstreet's 
attack was almost over and his columns had been repulsed from most 
of the decisive positions they strove to carry, before the advance 
against Cemetery Hill was begun. 

The Confederate cannon had been pounding away at the slender 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 239 

earthworks that crested the hill all the afternoon, and when at sundown 
their fire ceased, the defenders thought for a time that the close of day 
had brought a welcome truce. But soon a long line of men clad in 
butternut gray appeared from the grove whence the guns had a few 
moments before been roaring. The troops of Early and of Johnson 
were in that line of battle, — prominent among the former that body of 
dashing soldiers known as the Louisiana Tigers. It fell to the lot of 
the Tigers to charge straight up the hill into the very center of the 
Union line. Right gallantly did the dashing fellows discharge their 
perilous duty. As with a shrill yell they started up the hill the bat- 
teries behind them, that had ceased firing to let the "Tigers" pass, 
now opened again and were soon throwing solid shot and shell into 
the Union position. But the Federal batteries were now in full cry. 
Disregarding altogether the enemy's artillery, the blue-clad cannoneers 
turned their pieces on that swiftly advancing line of gray. More 
than a score of guns were flaming and smoking and thundering on the 
brow of that green hill. Though sorely stricken by the pelting storm 
of bullets, the charging line swept swiftly onward. The "Tigers" were 
born soldiers and veterans of half a dozen fields ; encouraging each 
other and closing up the gaps in their lines, they pressed forward 
until, sorely shattered but still formidable in numbers and full of fight, 
they rushed right in among the Union guns. Weidrich's battery was 
overrun in an instant, but the men of Ricketts's battery were veterans 
and stood manfully by their pieces. Muskets, sponge-staffs, rammers, 
fence-rails, and stones, were all used by the artillerists with good effect. 
"The batteries were penetrated," says Doubleday, "but would not sur- 
render. Dearer than life itself to the cannoneer is the gun he serves, 
and these brave men fought hand-to-hand with handspikes, rammers, 
staves, and even stones. They shouted 'Death on the soil of our 
native State rather than lose our guns!'" 

With all their gallantry the Union artillerists could not long have 
maintained themselves against the furious onslaught of their foes, who 
came on in overwelming numbers. But the Louisiana men were not 



240 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

destined to reap the full reward of their dashinij charge. The noise 
of the conflict coming to the ears of Hancock, he sent a fresh brigade 
to the scene, which arrived just as the Federal resistance began to 
grow feeble. At the same moment Stevens's battery opened fire with 
canister upon the unprotected Confederate left. While the Federal 
resistance thus gained in vigor and effectiveness, there came no reen- 
forcements to the aid of the Confederates. Disheartened, maimed, and 
bleeding they fell back over the ground they had so dashingly carried. 
Of the 1750 "Louisiana Tigers" who went with brave hearts and tense 
nerves into the fight only 150 returned. 

On the extreme right of the Union line, meanwhile, the Con- 
federates advanced against the Union works on Culp's Hill. They 
made some progress there but were held in check by a small Federal 
force until nightfall, when hostilities ceased. But had the Confederate 
attack at that part of the field been vigorously pressed, disaster 
might have come upon the whole Union army, for at no point was 
the Federal line so weak, and with that line once pierced Meade's 
whole army would have been thrown into confusion and irretrievably 
wrecked. 

Such were the chief features of the fighting on the second day, 
sketched in brief. It was dark when the battle ended. Nearly 40,000 
men were then lying dead or wounded upon the battle field. The 
survivors were huddling about their flickering camp fires, pacing their 
lonely picket lines, or eating with scanty relish their frugal rations. 
All knew that in but a few hours the fighting would begin again. 
No decisive advantage had come to either Meade or Lee from the 
day's battle. The Confederates had gained much, but the Federals 
still held the positions the continued possession of which meant vic- 
tory. The two Round Tops and Cemetery Ridge were still in the 
hands of the men in blue. Until Lee could wrest from them the 
mastery of this line of defense, all his successes on the field of Get- 
tysburg were worthless. 

There was little chance for sleep that night. In General Meade's 




AROUND THE CAMP FlRi 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 243 



headquarters were gathered all the corps commanders of the Army of 
the Potomac. To retreat or to stay and fight it out was the ques- 
tion there presented for their consideration. All voted that the ground 
should be held. 

General Lee for his part held no council of war. He knew 
wherein he had been successful during the day, and his successes 
encouraged him. He saw wherein he had been unsuccessful, and his 
failures only stimulated him to prepare for renewing the combat with 
still greater determination on the morrow. All night he was busy 
issuing orders for the concentration of the Confederate artillery where 
it could bear directly upon the point against which he proposed to 
direct a charge which has become one of the most famous of all the 
great exploits of war. Toward morning Longstreet came to urge 
again that the direct attack should be abandoned and an attempt 
made to move around Meade's left flank. 

"No," said Lee, "I am going to take them where they are on 
Cemetery Hill. I want you to take Pickett's division and make 
the attack. I will reenforce you by two divisions of the Third 
Corps." 

"That will give me fifteen thousand men," responded Longstreet. 
"I have been a soldier, I may say, from the ranks up to the posi- 
tion I now hold. I have been in pretty much all kinds of skirmishes 
from those of two or three soldiers up to those of an army corps, 
and I think I can safely say there never was a body of fifteen thou- 
sand men who could make that attack successfully." 

But Longstreet's counsel went unheeded. Lee had determined to 
assault Meade in his stronghold. Strategy he discarded. The fight- 
ing of the two first days had redounded to the advantage of the Con- 
federate!?. The great Virginia general now proposed to deal one pon- 
derous blow that should settle the conflict. 

If the tactics and the operations of the first two days which saw the 
great armies grappling on the field of Gettysburg were confused and 
complicated, the plan of the third day's battle was simple enough. 



244 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

General Lee's plan contemplated simply a furious cannonade of the 
Federal position on Cemetery Hill, to be followed by a desperate 
charge of 15,000 men against that position. The divisions of Pickett, 
Pettigrew, and Trimble, composed largely of fresh troops, were chosen 
to form the charging body. All night the Confederate chief of artil- 
lery was busy posting the artillery where it could most effectively sup- 
port the charge. Morning saw every hill crowned with a Confederate 
battery. For two miles — from the town to the peach orchard — the 
long line of cannon extended, plainly visible from the Union lines 
across the plain. When Meade's general officers gazed through their 
field-glasses upon the spectacle, they fathomed Lee's purpose at once. 
All knew that it meant a pounding cannonade followed by a charge. 

One hundred and thirty-eight cannon the Confederates had in 
position to bear upon Cemetery Hill and the connecting ridge. To 
respond to this fire there were seventy-seven cannon. These are the 
orders General Hunt, Meade's chief of artillery, issued for the direc- 
tion of the Union artillerists in the impending battle: "Beginning at 
the right I instructed the chiefs of artillery and battery commanders 
to withhold their fire for fifteen or twenty minutes after the cannon- 
ade commenced, then to concentrate their fire, with all possible accu- 
racy, on those batteries which were most destructive to us, but slowly, 
so that when the enemy's ammunition was exhausted, we sliould have 
sufficient left to meet the assault." 

All through the morning there was skirmishing and sharp fighting 
between the lines of the two armies. At one point a large brick barn 
attracted the attention of the hostile pickets, each of whom wished to 
take advantage of its shelter. The Confederates gained it first, and the 
bullets that came flying from their rifles soon stung the Federals into 
action. Some Union cannon were turned upon the barn, but as the 
Confederates held their ground manfully a Connecticut regiment was 
sent down to drive them out. Other Confederates came to the aid of 
their comrades. There was fighting around the barn, and under the 
spreading trees of the orchard that adjoined it. But at last the Con- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 245 



necticut men gained entrance to the building, set it afire, and retreated, 
leaving the Confederates in possession of the surroundings of the blaz- 



ing structure. 



On the extreme right of the Union line, too, the fighting began 
at an early hour. It will be remembered that the Confederates under 
Johnson had won a position on the slope of Culp's Hill. From this 
position it was essential that they should be dislodged, and theit task 
was undertaken by Geary's division. As Johnson had no artillery, 
and was prevented by the nature of the ground from bringing any 
up, Geary had easy work of it. Despite the strenuous efforts of the 
Confederates — among whom the members of the famous "Stonewall 
Brigade" were conspicuous — they were soon driven away, and by eleven 
o'clock the Union line was again established on Culp's Hill. 

But all this was but the preliminary muttcrings of the great 
storm that was to make the 3d of July, 1863, memorable in the annals 
of war. Pickett's men were being massed opposite the ridge. Petti- 
grew and Trimble were getting their troops into position to follow 
closely in Pickett's rear. Batteries were galloping along the road and 
across the fields seeking positions whence they could turn upon the 
Union lines a flood of deadly missiles before which no living thing 
could stand. Two guns fired by the Washington Artillery were to 
give the signal for opening fire. It was i :30 P.M. when a courier 
from General Longstreet came galloping to where the Washington Artil- 
lery was stationed in the famous peach orchard, with a note: "Let 
the batteries open," it said; "order great care and precision in firing." 
Instantly the word was passed to the gunners, and the two signal 
guns boomed out. Both pieces had been carefully trained on a Union 
battery some thousand yards away, and the shot from each exploded 
a caisson in that battery. The echoes had scarcely time to die away 
before all the Confederate guns burst into full cry. The din was 
deafening. The concussions shook the earth as though the hidden 
forces of nature were struggling beneath its surface. The air was full 
of flying missiles. "Every size and form of shell known to British 



246 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

and to American gunnery shrieked, whirled, moaned, and whistled and 
wrathfully fluttered over our ground," wrote Samuel Wilkeson, father of 
the young artilleryman who died so bravely upon the first day of the 
battle. "As many as six in a second, constantly two in a second, 
bursting and screaming over and around headquarters, made a very hell 
of fire that amazed the oldest officers. .They burst in the yard — burst 
next to the fence, on both sides garnished as usual with hitched horses 
of aides and orderlies. The fastened animals reared and plunged 
with terror. Then one fell and then another — sixteen lay dead and 
mangled before the firing ceased, still fastened by their halters. These 
brute victims of a cruel war touched all hearts. ... A shell tore up 
the little step at the headquarters cottage and ripped bags of oats as 
with a knife. Another carried off one of its two pillars. Soon a 
spherical case burst opposite the open door. Another ripped through 
the low garret. Shells through the two lower rooms. A shell in the 
chimney that fortunately did not explode. Shells in the yard; the 
air thicker and fuller with the howling and whirring of these infernal 
missiles." 

From this heavy fire the Union batteries suffered severely. No 
less than eleven caissons were blown up, and the explosions cost many 
lives. General Meade, too, was forced to abandon his headquarters 
and seek a more protected spot. But the Union infantry was all well 
sheltered, and though the Confederate guns maintained a rapid fire, 
the Union line of defense was not seriously weakened. 

While the cannonade was progressing the Confederates were mak- 
ing ready for the charge. General Lee remained at headquarters. 
He had issued his orders for the direction of the battle. There 
now remained nothing for him to do but to stay where he could be 
found readily by couriers bringing reports of the progress of the battle. 
General Longstreet, to whom the immediate direction of the charge fell, 
did not like the plan. Ever since the battle opened, two days earlier, 
he had opposed Lee's ideas, and urged fighting a defensive battle only. 
Now that the time had come to order a desperate charge — to send 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 247 

15,000 men across a broad plain and up a slope raked by the cross- 
fire of a long line of hostile cannon — he was fearful and apprehensive 
of disaster. He strove to shift the responsibility, and sent a note to 
General Alexander, the Confederate chief of artillery, directing that 
officer to use his judgment to determine the most advantageous mo- 
ment for Pickett to charge. 

"If, as I infer from your note," responded General Alexander, 
"there is any alternative to this attack it should be carefully con- 
sidered before opening our fire, for it will take all the artillery ammu- 
nition we have left to test this one thoroughly, and if the result is 
unfavorable we will have none left for another effort. And even if 
this is entirely successful it can only be so at a very bloody cost." 

But Longstreet's answer was a curt note directing Alexander to 
order Pickett forward as soon as the enemy's artillery should show 
signs of distress before the continuous fire of the Confederate guns. 

But while Longstreet and Alexander doubted the possibility of a 
successful charge across that shot-swept valley, other Confederate offi- 
cers were more sanguine. "Pickett seemed glad to have the chance," 
writes a soldier who was with him that day. And General Wright, 
whose mettle was tested on the second day of the battle, responded 
to General Alexander's doubts as to whether the ridge could be won : 
"It is not so hard to £-0 there as it looks; I was nearly there with 
my brigade yesterday. The trouble is to staj there. The whole 
Yankee army is there in a bunch." 

Alexander was somewhat encouraged. "When our artillery fire is 
at its best I shall order Pickett to charge," he wrote to Longstreet. 

Let us allow General Alexander himself to tell the story of what 
followed: "Before the cannonade opened I had made up my mind 
to give Pickett the order to advance wMthin fifteen or twenty minutes 
after it began," he writes. "But when I looked at the full develop- 
ment of the enemy's batteries and knew thaj; his infantry was gener- 
ally protected from our fire by stone walls and swells of the ground, I 
could not bring myself to give the word. It seemed madness to launch 



248 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

infantry into that fire, witli nearly throe-quarters of a mile to <^o at 
mid-day luuler a July sun. I let the fifteen minutc;s pass, and twenty 
and t\vent}'-five, ho[)ing x'ainly for something to turn up. Then I wrote 
to Pickett: 'If )'ou are coming at all you must come at once, or I can- 
not give you proper support ; but the enemy's fire has not slackened 
at all; at least eighteen guns are still firing from the cemetery itself.' 
Five minutes after sending that message the enemy's fire suddenly 
began to slacken, and the guns in the cemetery limbered up and 
vacated the position. 

"We Confederates often did such things as that to save our ammu- 
nition for use against infantry, but I had never before seen the 
Federals withdraw their guns simply to save them up for the infan- 
try fight. So I said, 'If he does not run fresh batteries in there in 
five minutes this is our fight.' I looked anxiously with my glass, 
and the five minutes passed without a sign of life on the deserted 
position, still swept by our iire, and littered with dead men and horses, 
and fragments of disabled carriages. Then I wrote Pickett urgently: 
'For God's sake come quick. The eighteen guns are gone; come 
quick or my ammunition wont let me support you properly.' " 

We, who have read General Hunt's instructions to the Union 
artillerymen, know that the eighteen guns were withdrawn merely to 
save them for the more important work of repelling the charge that 
all knew was coming. Ikit the Confederates did not suspect this and 
thought the guns were silenced and a gap made through wdiich their 
regiments could press on to victory. Pickett carried Alexander's note 
to Longstreet, who read it and said nothing. 

"Shall I advance, sir?" asked Pickett. 

Still dreading to order so desperate a charge, still convinced of its 
futility, Longstreet made no verbal answer, but merely bowed in token 
of assent. 

"I am going to move forward, sir," said Pickett proudly, and then 
rode back to his troops, that were soon put in motion. Longstreet 
rode after him and was soon at General Alexander's side. "I don't 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 240 

want to make this attack," he said. "I would stop it now but that 
General Lee ordered it and expects that it should go on. I don't see 
how it can succeed." 

While the two ofificers were speaking, the long line of gray-clad 
men swept grandly out from the shelter of the trees and pushed out 
upon the open hillside. "There they come! There comes the infan- 
try!" cried the soldiers in the Union lines opposite. The magnifi- 
cence of the spectacle impressed all beholders. Even those who were 
about to feel the shock of those advancing gray lines were thrilled with 
admiration for the valor which animated the men who marched with 
Pickett. This is how the scene is described by a lieutenant-colonel of 
Ohio volunteers: 

"They moved up splendidly, deploying into column as they crossed 
the long sloping interval between the Second Corps and their base. 
At first it looked as though their line of march would sweep our posi- 
tion, but as they advanced their direction lay considerably to our left ; 
but soon a strong line with flags directed its march immediately upon 
us. .... We changed our front, and taking position by a fence facing 
the left flank of the advancing column of rebels, the men were 
ordered to fire into their flank at will. Hardly a musket had been 
fired at this time. The front of the column was nearly up the slope 
and within a few yards of the line of the Second Corps' front and 
its batteries, when suddenly a terrific fire from every available gun from 
the Cemetery to Round Top Mountain burst upon them. The distinct, 
graceful lines of the rebels underwent an instantaneous transformation. 
They were at once enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke and dust. 
Arms, heads, blankets, guns and knapsacks were thrown and tossed into 
the clear air. Their track as they advanced was strewn with dead and 
wounded. A moan went up from the field, distinctly to be heard 
amid the storm of battle; but on they went, too much enveloped in 
smoke and dust now to permit us to distinguish their lines or move- 
ments, for the mass appeared more like a cloud of moving smoke and 
dust, than a column of troops. Still it advanced amid the now deafen- 



250 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

ing roar of artillery and storm of battle. Suddenly the column gave 
way; the slophig landscape appeared covered all at once with the 
scattered and retreating foe. A withering sheet of missiles swept after 
them, and they were torn and tossed and prostrated as they ran. It 
seemed as if not one would escape. Of all the mounted officers who 
rode so grandly in the advance, not one was to be seen on the field ; 
all had gone down." 

Meantime from the Confederate lines General Longstreet was 
watching the charge. "That day at Gettysburg was one of the sad- 
dest of my life," he writes. "I foresaw what my men would meet, 
and would gladly have given up my position rather than share in the 
responsibilities of that day. It was thus I felt when Pickett at the 
head of 4900 brave men marched over the crest of Seminary Ridge 
and began his descent of the slope. As he passed me he rode grace- 
fully with his jaunty cap raked well over his right ear and his long 
auburn locks, nicely dressed, hanging almost to his shoulders. He 
seemed rather a holiday soldier than a general at the head of a 
column which was about to make one of the grandest, most desper- 
ate assaults recorded in the annals of wars. Armistead and Garnett, 
two of his brigadiers, were veterans of nearly a quarter of a cen- 
ury's service. Their minds seemed absorbed in the men behind and 
in the bloody work before them. Kemper, the other brigadier, 
was younger, but had experienced many severe battles. He was lead- 
ing my old brigade that I had drilled on Manassas plains before 
the first battle on that noted field. The troops advanced in well- 
closed ranks, and with elastic step, their faces lighted with hope. 
Before them lay the ground over which they were to pass to the 
point of attack. Intervening were several fences, a field of corn, a 
little swale running through it, and then a rise from that point to 
the Federal stronghold. As soon as Pickett passed the crest of the 
hill, the Federals had a clear view and opened their batteries, and 
as he descended the slope of the ridge his troops received a fearful 
fire from the batteries in front and from Round Top. The troops 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 251 



marched steadily, taking the fire with great coolness. As soon as 
they passed my batteries I ordered my artillery to turn their fire 
aga.nst the batteries on our rfght, then raking our lines. Thev did 
so. but did not force the Federals to change the direction of their 
fire and relieve our infantry. As the troops were about to cross the 
swale I noticed a considerable force of Federal infantry moving down 
as though to flank the left of our line. I sent an officer to caution 
the division commanders to guard against that move, at the same 
time sending another staff officer with similar orders, so as to te-l 
assured the orders would be delivered. Both officers came back bring 
mg their saddles, their horses having been shot under them After 
crossing the swale, the troops kept up the same steady step but 
met a dreadful fire at the hands of the Federal sharpshooters; and 
as soon as the field was open the Federal infantry poured down a 
terrific fire, which was kept up during the entire assault. The slau-^hter 
was terrible, the enfilade fire of the batteries on Round Top bein. 
very destructive. At times one shell would knock down five or six 
men. I dismounted to relieve my horse, and was sitting on a rail 
fence watching very closely the movements of the troops. Col Free 
mantle, who had taken a position behind the Third Corps, where he 
would be out of reach of fire and at the same time have a clear 
view of the field, became so interested that he left his position and 
came wid, speed to join me. Just as he came up behind me, Pickett 
1 ad reached a point near the Federal lines. A pause was made to 
close ranks and mass for the final plunge. The troops on Pickett's 
Iclt, though advancing, were evidently a little shaky. Col Free 
mantle, only observing the troops of Picketfs command, said to me 
General, I would not have missed this for anything in the world.^ 
He be eved ,t to be a complete success. I was watching the troops 
supporting Pickett, and saw plainly they could not hold together ten 
minutes longer. I called his attention to the wavering condition of 
he two divisions of the Third Corps, and said thev would not hold 
that Pickett would strike and be crushed, and the attack would be J 



252 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

fciilurc. As Pickett's division concentrated in makin^^ the final assault, 
Kemper fell severely wounded. As the division threw itself against 
the Federal line, Garnett fell and expired. The Confederate flag was 
planted in the PYxleral line, and immediately Armistead fell, mortally 
wounded, at the feet of the P'ederal soldiers. The wavering divisions 
then seemed appalled, broke their ranks, and retired. Immediately the 
Federals swarmed around Pickett, attacking on all sides, enveloped and 
broke up his command, having killed and wounded more than two 
thousand men in about thirty minutes. They then drove the frag- 
ments back upon our lines. As they came back I fully expected 
to see Meade ride to the front and lead his forces to an immense 
counter-charge. Sending my staff officers to assist in collecting the 
fragments of my command, I rode to my line of batteries, knowing 
they were all I had in front of the impending attack, resolved to 
drive it back or sacrifice my last gun and man. The Federals were 
advancing a line of skirmishers which I thought was the advance of 
their charge. As soon as the line of skirmishers came within reach 
of our guns the batteries opened again, and their fire seemed to check 
at once the threatened advance. After keeping it up a few minutes, 
the line of skirmishers disappeared, and my mind was relieved of the 
apprehension that Meade was going to follow us." 

Col. Fremantle, of whom Longstreet speaks, was an officer of the 
British army who had attached himself to Lee's headquarters with a 
view to seeing some fighting. He has recorded in entertaining fashion 
some^ incidents of the great charge. 

"When I got close up to General Longstreet," he writes, "I saw 
one of his regiments advancing through the woods in good order; 
so, thinking I was just in time to see the attack, I remarked to the 
General that I wouldn't have missed this for anything. Longstreet 
was seated at the top of a snake fence and looking perfectly calm 
and unperturbed. He replied, laughing: 'The devil you wouldn't! I 
would like to have missed it very much. We have attacked and 
been repulsed. Look there.' P^or the first time I then had a view 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 253 

of the open space between the two positions, and saw it covered with 
Confederates slowly and sulkily returning toward us under a heavy fire 
of artillery. 

"The General was making the best arrangements in his power to 
resist the threatened advance, by advancing some artillery, rallying some 
stragglers, etc. I remember seeing a general (Pettigrew I think it 
was) come up to him and report that he was unable to bring his 
men up again. Longstreet turned upon him and replied with some 
sarcasm: 'Very well; never mind then, General ; just let them remain 
where they are; the enemy's going to advance and will spare you 
the trouble.' 

"Soon afterward I joined General Lee, who had in the mean time 
come to the front on becoming aware of the disaster. If Long- 
street's conduct was admirable, that of General Lee was perfectly sub- 
lime. He was engaged in rallying and encouraging the broken troops, 
and was riding about a little in front of the wood, quite alone, the 
whole of his staff being engaged in a similar manner further to the 
rear. His face, which is always placid and cheerful, did not show 
signs of the slightest disappointment, care, or annoyance, and he was 
addressing to every soldier he met a few words of encouragement, 
such as 'All this will come right in the end; we'll talk it over after- 
ward ; but in the mean time all good men must rally. We want all 
good and true men just now.' He spoke to all the wounded men 
that passed him, and the slightly wounded he exhorted to bind up their 
hurts and take up a musket in this emergency. Very few failed to 
answer his api)eal ; and I saw many badly wounded men take off 
their hats and cheer him. 

"He said to me: 'This has been a sad day for us, Colonel — a 
sad day; but we can't expect to always gain victories.' 

"Nothwithstanding the misfortune which had so suddenly befallen 
him, Gener.il Lee seemed to observe everything, however trivial. 
When a mounted officer began beating his horse for shying at the 
bursting of a shell, he called out: 'Don't whip him, Captain; don't 



254 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

whip him. I've got just such another foolish horse myself, and 
whipping does no good.' 

"I saw General Wilcox (an ofificer who wears a short round jacket 
and battered straw hat) come up to him and explain, almost crying, 
the state of his brigade. General Lee immediately shook hands with 
him, and said cheerfully: 'Never mind, General, — all this has been my 
fault ; it is I that have lost this fight, and you must help me out of it 
in the best way you can.' " 

There was no more fighting in the valley before Cemetery Ridge 
after the hurricane of death had swept away the men who charged 
with Pickett. Meade made no counter-attack. "An advance of 
20,000 men from Cemetery Ridge in the face of the 140 guns then 
in position would have been stark madness," is the opinion of General 
Hunt on this seeming failure of the Union commander to follow up 
his advantage. But on both flanks of the warring armies the fight- 
ing still continued. On the right of the Union line the cavalry 
commands of Stuart and Gregg contended fiercely for the mastery, and 
with furious charges and sharp artillery combats scattered the fields 
about the Rummel house with dead and wounded. On the Union 
left Farnsworth's cavalry made a desperate charge against the Confeder- 
ate artillery and infantry. The charge was repulsed, but it served its 
purpose in holding the Confederate left wing in check. General 
F"arnsworth himself fell at the head of his troops, struck down with 
five mortal wounds. He knew when he rode out into the field that 
he had been sent on a mission from which there was scarce one 
chance in ten of his returning, but he did his duty like a man and 
died like a hero. "I was near Kilpatrick when he impetuously gave 
the order to Farnsworth to make the last charge," writes one of the 
Union troopers. "Farnsworth spoke with emotion: 'General, do you 
mean it? Shall I throw my handful of men over rough ground, 
through timber, against a brigade of infantry? The First Vermont has 
already been fought half to pieces; these are too good men to kill.' 
Kilpatrick said: 'Do you refuse to obey my orders? If you are afraid 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 255 

to lead this charge, I will lead it.' Farnsworth rose in his stirrups — 
he looked magnificent in his passion — and cried, 'Take that back!' 
Kilpatrick returned his defiance, but soon repenting, said, T did not 
mean it. Forget it.' For a moment there was silence, when Farns- 
worth spoke calmly: 'General, if you order the charge I will lead it; 
but you must take the responsibility.' I did not hear the low con- 
versation that followed, but as Farnsworth turned away he said, 'I 
will obey your order.' Kilpatrick said earnestly, 'I take the responsi- 
bility.' 

But though the cavalry combats on the flanks afforded opportunity 
for the display of daring and gallantry on both sides, they had little 
or no bearing on the fortunes of the day. Pickett's charge \v'as the 
sledge-hammer blow with which Lee had planned to crush the Union 
army. When it failed the whole plan of invasion fell to pieces, and 
one unprejudiced foreign historian has said that when Pickett's line 
crumbled away, Lee must have foreseen Appomatox. Whole volumes 
have been written to show just why Pickett failed. Whether Lee erred 
in refusing to entertain Longstreet's suggestion that the Confederates 
should move around the Union flank and force Meade to take the 
offensive ; whether Longstreet carried out Lee's orders with zeal and 
celerity, or whether it was to his indifference and dilatoriness that the 
failure of the great charge was due; whether the right troops were 
chosen to support Pickett — all these things have been the subject of 
endless controversy. Doubtless it is true that the charge was not 
ordered as early in the day as General Lee had intended. Some 
reason there is to believe that Longstreet was lacking in zeal both on 
the second and third days of the battle, and it was really on the 
second day that the Confederates lost the battle. An hour then 
would have decided the fate of the nation at Gettysburg. The key 
to the whole Federal position was Little Round Top, and it will be 
remembered that the Union troops secured that vitally important hill- 
top scarce five minutes before the Confederates reached it. In a 
reply to General Longstreet's criticisms upon General Lee's conduct 



256 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



of. the battle, publishetl in '"l^attles and Leaders of the Civil War," 
Colonel William Allan of the Confederate army says: "Had Longstrcet 
attacked not later than 9 or 10 a.m., as Lee certainly expected, Sick- 
les's and Hancock's Corps would have been defeated before part of the 
Fifth and Sixth Corps arrived. Little Round Top (which, as it was, 
the Fifth Corps barely managed to seize in time) would have fallen 
into Confederate possession; and even if nothing more had been done, 
this would have given the field to the Confederates, since the Federal 
line all the way to Cemetery Hill was untenable with Round Top in 
hostile hands." 

It is also urged, with some reason, that the disaster to the Con- 
federate arms at Gettysburg was due in part to the absence of Stuart 
and his cavalry. The army was robbed of its eyes ; it was deprived 
too of its oft-employed means for deceiving the enemy and cloaking 
its own movements. Without the cavalry to interpose a screen 
before Meade's pickets that flank movement which Longstreet so 
strenuously urged could never have been accomplished w^ithout attract- 
ing the attention and encountering the opposition of the Union army. 
Nor were the results of Stuart's circuitous expedition such as to offset 
in an\' way the disadvantages suffered by Lee because of his absence. 
Beyond spreading panic in Baltiniore and Philadelphia, capturing a 
Union baggage train rich in provisions and ammunition, and fighting 
a sharp battle with Kilpatrick at Hanover, Stuart accomplished noth- 
ing. He did not appear upon the battle field at Gettysburg until 
late in the afternoon of the second day, and his men were then so 
exhausted with long continued riding and fighting as scarcely to be 
worth reckoning as effective troops. 

So endetl in complete defeat for the Confederates, the battle of 
Gettysburg. With it ended Lee's hope for a successful invasion of 
Northern territory. It was m )re than a mere battle lost for the Con- 
federacy. It was a more serious disaster than the mere failure of a 
campaign. Far away beyond the Atlantic, England antl France were 
waiting for some notable triumph of the Southern armies to afford 




^1 wN A BAGGAGE TRAIN. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 2;")9 

them an excuse to recognize the Confederacy as one among the family 
of indei)endent nations. Success at Gettysburg would have meant 
much for the Confederacy. Failure meant the postponement of any 
possible European intervention, and perhaps meant that all hope of 
such intervention must be abandoned. Doubtless this thought came 
to General Lee when he saw Pickett's men driven from the lodgement 
they had effected in the center of the Union line. From General Im- 
boden we learn of the heavy sadness that came upon the great Vir- 
ginian when night brought time to reflect upon the disaster of the day. 

"When he arrived there was not even a sentinel on duty at his 
tent," writes General Imboden, telling of General Lee's return to 
headquarters at midnight, "and not one of his stafT was awake. The 
moon was high in the clear sky, and the silent scene was unusually 
vivid. As he approached and saw us lying on the grass under a 
tree, he spoke, reined in his jaded horse, and essayed to dismount. 
The effort to do so betrayed so much physical exhaustion that I 
hurriedly rose and stepped forward to assist him, but before I reached 
his side he had succeeded in alighting, and threw his arm across the 
saddle to rest, and fixing his eyes upon the ground leaned in silence 
and almost motionless upon his equally weary horse — the two forming 
a striking and never-to-be-forgotten group. The moon shone full upon 
his massive features and revealed an expression of sadness I had never 
before seen upon his face. Awed by his appearance, I waited for him 
to speak, until the silence became embarrassing, when, to break it and 
change the silent current of his thoughts, I ventured to remark in 
a sympathetic tone and in allusion to his great fatigue: 

" 'General, this has been a hard day upon you.' 

"He looked up and replied mournfully: 

" 'Yes, it has been a sad, sad day to us,' and immediately relapsed 
into his thoughtful mood and attitude. Being unwilling again to 
intrude upon his reflections I said no more. After perhaps a minute 
or two he suddenly straightened up to his full height, and turning 
to me with more animation and excitement of manner than I had 



200 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

ever seen in liiin before, for he was a man of wonderful ecjuanimity, 
he saiel in a voice treiiuilous with emotion: 

"T never saw troops behave more magnificently than Tickctt's 
cli\'ision of Virginians did to-day in that grand charge upon the enemy. 
And if they had been sup])orted as they were to have been, — but for 
some reason not yet fully explained to me, were not, — we would 
have held the i)osition aiul the day would have been ours.' After a 
moment's pause he added in a loud voice, in a tone almost of agony: 
'Too bad! Too bad! Oil! too liAl)!'" 

The story of Gettysburg is replete with incidents of personal 
valor, romance, and interest. It was the seventeen-year-old grandson 
of Presitlent Tyler who carried the Confederate colors in Armistead's 
brigade of Pickett's ilivision. "I will i)lant these colors on yonder 
breastworks, or die," he had ])romised his (leneral before the charge 
began. He kept his word. h'or a moment the colors flaunted gal- 
!.iiUl\- aho\e the Union line. Then they were fairly shot to pieces, 
and the \dung color-bearer was struck tlown with a mortal wound. 

lUhind the stone wall on which Robert T},-lcr planted his colors 
was a battery C(jmmanded by Lieutenant Alon/.o Cushing. On it the 
heavy tire of the Confederate artillery fell fiercely during the cannonade 
preceding the Confederate charge. Ilorses and men were struck down, 
guns dismounteil. Cushing himself fell mortally W(nnuled. \Vhen the 
great charge was begun General \\'el)I), who commantled that part of 
the Union line, stood near the dying artillerist. Put one gun of the 
battery was fit for use. Seeing the advancing line of gray, Cushing 
sjjrang to his feet. "Webb, I'll give them one more shot!" he cried. 
Running his cannon forwartl to the wall lie discharged it, and cr\'ing 
out, "Good-by!" fell dead by the siile of his last gun. 

After the Confederates hail been beaten back, the men in blue 
left their trenches ami went out on the lieUl to care for the enem},''s 
wounded. "Tell llancoek I ha\e wronged him and wronged my 
country," said a il}'ing Confederate officer o\er whom the}' bent. 
And another officer, whose brilliant uniform had led General Dt)uble. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 261 

day to send to inquire his name and rank, res[)onded <^rinily: "Tell 
General Doubleday, in a few minutes I shall be where there is no 
rank." 

Though the ultimate results of the battle of Gettysburg were 
greatly to the advantage of the Union, and though the battle was in 
every sense a notable defeat for the Confederates, the losses of the 
opi)osing armies were about e(]ual. Tlie official reports of the losses 
of Meade's army show that 3072 men were killed, 14,497 wounded, 
and 5434 captured; a total loss of 23,003. Lee's reports, which are 
somewhat fragmentary, show 2592 killetl, 12,709 wounded and 5150 cap- 
tured; a total of 20,451. There is much reason to believe, however, 
that the actual Confederate loss was largely in excess of that reported, 
and that it really exceeded the Union loss to no small degree. 

It is unnecessary for us to follow the course of Lee's army after 
the thunders of the battle about Cemetery Ridge were stilled. The 
Southern general recognized his defeat. He knew that the resources 
of his country would not justify him in any attempt to snatch victory 
from the jaws of defeat by any desperate renewal of a hopeless contest. 
For him there was nothing left but retreat, and the night was scarcely 
half over before pre[)arations for a movement back toward the Potomac 
were well under way. By the fifth of July his whole army was in fidl 
retreat. 

Meade pursued, but ovcr-cautiously. lie was satisfied with his 
victory, and dreaded to press too closely his retreating foe. Despite 
urgent messages from Washington directing him to i)ush the i)ursuit 
with more energy, and to seize his opportunity to end the rebellion by 
annihilating the chief army of the Confederacy, he still lagged in Lee's 
rear. And so the Confederate army, beaten and sorely crippled, but a 
powerful and dangerous army still, escaped into Virginia. 

Here we shall take leave for a time of the Army of Northern \'ir- 
ginia, and its persistent enemy, the Army of the Potomac. The last 
and the greatest effort of the Confederates to carrv the war into 



Iit32 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Northern territory had failed. The period of Southern aggressiveness 
had coine to an end. When we again — in another volume — take up 
the fortunes of General Lee and his army of tried veterans, we shall 
see them no longer in conscious strength and with high ambitions 
invading the territory of their foe. Henceforth their part was to 
defend their own country desperately and with rapidly dwindling forces, 
against the persistent and stubborn attacks of a foe vastly their supe- 
rior in resources and in numbers. 





CHAPTER X. 

OPENING THE MISSISSIPPI. — SHEKMAN's EXPEDITION. — BATTLE OF CHICKASAW 

BAYOU. EXPEDITIONS UP THE YAZOO AND THROUGH THE I'.AYOUS. 

grant's movements west ok the RIVER. CROSSING THE RIVER. I'.AT- 

TLE OF PORT GIBSON. BATTLE AT JACKSON. BATTLE OF CHAMPION 

HILL. BATTLE AT BIG BLACK RIVER BRIDGE. VICKSBURG INVESTED. 

THE SIEGE. — PEMBERTON's SURRENDER. — FALL OF PORT HUDSON. 




jlIE men of the Northwest," said John A. Logan in the early 
days of the war, "will hew their way to the Gulf." 
From the day when General Grant went down the Missis- 
sippi River to attack the Confederate camp at Belmont, the military 
authorities of the Union never withdrew their attention from the great 
river that flowed from the cool lakes of Minnesota to the turquoise 
waters of the Gulf of Mexico. When once that river .should be 
cleared of hostile batteries so that a vessel flying the stars and stripes, 
might go unmolested from St. Louis to New Orleans, the Confederacy 
would be split in twain. To accomplish this end vast armies were 
raised, roads built, canals dug, fleets of ironclads and rams set afloat, 
the waters of the river were turned into the bordering forests, new- 
engines of war were devised, and all the complex machinery of moderr» 
military science was employed upon a scale hitherto unparalleled. 

Of the earlier cami)aigns and naval expeditions looking toward the 
opening of the Mississippi we have already spoken. The Union 

263 



2i;4 BATTLK FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



forces gradually worked their way soulliward from Cairo, ousting the 
Confederates in rapid succession from Columbus, New Madrid and 
Island No. lo, I'^ort Pillow and Memphis, so that the autumn of 
1862 saw the banks of the great river north of Vicksburg unoccupied 
by a single hostile cannon. The army and navy of the Union were 
pushing northward too from the mouth of the Mississippi. After pass- 
ing P^ort St. Philip and P'ort Jackson and capturing New Orleans in 
April, l'"arragut pushed on ui)-stream, ca[)tured Baton Rouge and Nat- 
chez, and flaunted the flag before the batteries of Vicksburg, which 
were then but pigmy fortifications in comparison with their proportions 
of later days. Nothing was done at this time, but some weeks later 
he returned, and with a fleet of three men-of-war, seven gunboats and 
sixteen mortar-boats, together with a land force of about 3000 men, 
made an attempt to carry the town. In this the Federals were unsuc- 
cessful, and soon left the field and retired down the river, the land 
forces stopping at Baton Rouge, where on the 4th of August they 
fought a victorious battle against an attacking force of Confederates 
under General Breckinridge. 

Soon after the battle of Baton Rouge the Confederates began the 
construction of formidable batteries at Port Hudson, a few miles above 
that town. Here the bluffs rose steep from the water's edge, and 
the batteries built by Breckinridge effectually closed the river against 
the passage of any save the most formidable ironclads. The purpose 
of the Confederates in choosing this spot for their batteries is obvious. 
Between Port Hudson and Vicksburg there empties into the Mississippi 
the Red River, which winds away in great curves through the heart of 
Louisiana. Down this river came floating steamers and barges freighted 
heavily with food products for the famishing people in the eastern part 
of the South, where the armies tramping backward and forward had 
ruined the crops and converted the cattle into rations. It was of 
vital importance to the Confederacy that the Red River and the Mis- 
sissippi about its mouth should be kept free from Union gunboats, 
and to this end the frowning" batteries at Port Hudson were built to 



BATTLI-: IHRLDS y\NI) CAMP I^RKS. 2i\r) 



cut off marauders from the south, while the rows of cannon on the 
bluff at Vicksburg seemed to bid defiance to any Union vessels that 
might seek to come down from the north. 

As the works on the river bluffs at Vicksburg and Port Hudson 
grew more formidable it became evident that no naval force alone could 
carry them. Vicksburg was the chief point to which the attention of 
the War Department was directed, and soon another movement for the 
Confederate stronghold was under way. 

In DecemljLM-, 18C2, Grant's army was in northern Mississippi and 
southern Tennessee, on the line of railroad between luka and Memphis. 
From this point a land and water expedition against Vicksburg was 
begun. Grant was in command of the land forces, and had made con- 
siderable progress in his advance, when a raiding party of Confederate 
cavalry under P\^rrest fell upon his rear, cut his communications, and 
destroyed his depot of supplies at Holly. This proved fatal to the 
issue of the campaign, for Grant was forced to retreat, and was unable 
to co-operate in the attack which Sherman was about to make. 

Sherman meantime, with some 30,000 men, had gone down the 
river upon transports and landed near the mouth of the Yazoo River 
just north of Vicksburg. No news hatl come to him of the disaster 
that had befallen Grant, and he pushed on in the full belief that the 
Confederates were already engaged by Grant and would be able to 
offer at best only a slight resistance to his advance. 

It was a difficult country through which Sherman's line of march 
lay. The roads were narrow and muddy, flanked on either side by 
gloomy morasses, swamps in which the water stood two feet deep, 
while huge cypress trees towered high above and shut out the light of 
day. Through this desolate region, harassed continually by Confeder- 
ate pickets and sharpshooters, the Union forces painfully made their 
way, a part of them overland and some in transports by way of the 
Yazoo River, until all had finally secured a position on the bottom 
lands beneath the lofty bluffs known as the Walnut Hills. 

Sherman's campaign had been plannetl u[)on the theory that the 



2()() BATTLE l-II-.LDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



greater part of the Confederate forces would be engaged by Grant 
and that he would find but a meagre force opposing his march to 
Vicksburg. Hut the tlisastcr at i lolly Springs hatl turned Grant back 
and loft l*emberton free to hurry his troops to the defense of the 
Confederate stronghold. And so it happened that on the crest of 
the towering bluffs that overlot)ked Sherman's lines there were not 
less than 12,000 men in a well-fortified position. One thousand men 
slu)uld have been able to hold that line against the assaults of Sher- 
man's entire force. "Our trooi)s," wrote a Union officer, "had not 
only to advance from the narrow apex of a triangle, whose short 
base of about four hundred yards and short sides bristled with the 
enemy's artillery and small arms, but had to wade the bayou and tug 
through the mucky and tangled swamp under a withering fire of grape, 
canister, shells and minic bails before reaching dry ground. Such was 
the point chosen for the assault by General Sherman. What more 
could be desired by an enemy about to be assailed in his trenches!" 

It is unlikely that General Sherman under-estimated the desperate 
character of the assault he was about to order. But he had gone 
too far to retreat without striking a blow. "Tell General Morgan," 
said he t(^ an aide who came from that officer to advise against the 
assault — "Tell General Morgan to give the signal for the assault; that 
we will lose 5000 men before we take Vicksburg, and that we may as 
well lose them here as an\-where else." 

General Morgan had no choice but to obey, though he returned 
word to his chief that it would be easy to sacrifice the 5000 men but 
impossible to carr\' the enemy's position. The brigades of Ue Courcey 
and Blair and a part of Thayer's brigade — 6000 men in all — were chosen 
to m.d<e the assault. As the\- were forming, Col. De Cource}- rode up 
to Cieneral Morgan and asked gravely: 

"General, i.\o I understand that you are about to order an assault?" 

"Y'es, form your brigailc," was the response. 

"My poor brigade I" answered De Courcey sadly; "your orders will 
be oboveti. (^ener.il." 



BATTLR I^IELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 267 



Soon the drums beat fiercely, the opening volley crashed out, and 
the troops moved forward to the assault. Across the bayou, through 
the bristling abatis, over the marshy ground they advanced doggedly, 
losing all vestige of orderly formation, crowded together in one con- 
fused but determined mob, leaving scores of brave fellows on the 
ground behind them, but still j)ressing onward in the teeth of the furi- 
ous storm of missiles that rained down from the bluffs above. It was 
a gallant but a hopeless charge. Though they swept the Confeder- 
ates from two lines of rifle-pits at the base of the bluffs, the batteries 
on the crests tore great rents in the ranks of the assailants. Blair's 
brigade began to scale the hills, but found itself unsupported and was 
forced to retreat, leaving 500 men behind. The Sixth Missouri Regi- 
ment marched straight to the foot of the bluff and were there pro- 
tected from the enemy's cannon. But the Confederates came out to 
the brow of the hill, held out their muskets at arm's-length, and fired 
straight down upon the cowering, helpless crowd. It took scarcely half 
an hour to prove that the Confederate position was impregnable, though 
in demonstrating this fact hundreds of gallant soldiers had shed their 
blood. 

So ended in a complete but not ignominious defeat for the Union 
forces the battle of Chickasaw Bayou, fought on the 29th of December, 
1862. The loss to the Union army was heavy. No less than 191 
men were killed, in the assault and the supporting attack at other 
portions of the line. The wounded and missing numbered 1738. The 
Confederates from their secure entrenchments repelled the attack with 
a total loss of only 207 men. 

The failure of the attack at Chickasaw Bayou ended for a time 
the operations against Vicksburg. General Sherman at first deter- 
mined to re-embark his troops and proceed up the Yazoo to Haines's 
Bluff and there make another attempt to pierce the enemy's lines. 
But a heavy fog settled down upon the water-soaked country. Then 
came a rain-storm and the rivers and bayous began to rise. Sher- 
man saw by the water-marks on the trees that the water sometimes 



208 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

covered the low t^rouiid on which his troops were then enccur.ped to 
the depth of ten feet. Moreover his scouts reported that reenforce- 
ments were constantly entering the enemy's lines. With the elements 
thus against him, and with all signs indicating that Grant had met 
with some disaster, Sherman concluded that his wisest course was to 
abandon for the present his operations against Vicksburg. Accord- 
ingly he loaded his troops upon the transports, and soon landed them 
upon the bank of the Mississippi at the mouth of the Yazoo. 

We may pass hastily over the events which took place before 
the advance upon Vicksburg was taken up again. Soon after estab- 
lishing his army at the mouth of the Yazoo, General Sherman was 
superseded in his command by General McClernand, a "political sol- 
dier," whose experience in the field w^as as yet limited. However, 
McClernand's first underftiking was successful, for he took his forces up 
the Arkansas River, and with the aid of the gunboats reduced the 
Confederate works at Fort Hindman. By this victory the national 
forces captured nearly 5000 prisoners and a great quantity of stores. 
McClernand would have proceeded farther up the river, but was 
recalled by peremptory commands from General Grant, who now took 
command of all the Union armies on the Mississippi. These forces 
Grant divided into four corps, with McClernand, Sherman, Hurlbut, 
and McPherson as their respective commanders. 

The troops available for the movement against Vicksburg were 
now on the west bank of the river a few miles above the city. The 
winter had been unusually rainy, and the country bordering the great 
river was fairly waterlogged. Scarcely enough dry land could be 
found to afford a camping place for the Union troops. Strung out 
along the levees they extended for nearly seventy miles up the river. 

The problem which now confronted Grant was peculiarly perplex- 
ing. It was two-fold in its character. His duty, his one purpose 
was to reduce Vicksburg, The first step toward the accomplishment 
of this object must be to find a dry, safe landing-place for his troops 
on the eastern bank of the river. But his armies were all above 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 269 

the city. To cross and make the assault from the north would be 
to encounter again that ridge of precipitous bluffs, those lines of 
impregnable earthworks before which Sherman's gallant brigades had 
fallen back torn and bleeding. South of the city the land lay favora- 
bly for an attacking force. But how was Grant to get his troops 
below the town? Not by the river surely, for long lines of frown- 
ing earthworks, crowded with cannon, promised speedy destruction to 
any unarmored vessels that should strive to pass them, and on the 
ironclads no troops could be carried. To march down the west side 
of the river, out of range of the Confederate batteries, and cross the 
river below the town would have been the natural way out of the 
difificulty, but the nature of the country made this impracticable at 
this season. "The country," writes General Grant in his Memoirs, "is 
cut up by bayous filled from the river in high water — many of them 
navigable for steamers. All of them would be, except for overhang- 
ing trees, narrowness, and tortuous courses, making it impossible to 
turn the bends with vessels of any considerable length. Marching 
across this country in the face of an enemy was impossible; navi- 
gating it proved equally impracticable." 

Had military considerations alone been allowed to dictate Grant's 
action he would have taken his army up the river to Memphis again, 
and recommenced his advance against Vicksburg by way of Holly 
Springs and Jackson. i3ut this would have been a retrograde move- 
ment, and would have been construed by the people as a retreat. The 
North was then in no humor to look with philosophy upon a retreat, 
and political considerations determined the General to remain where 
he was, and wait until the warm sun of spring should dry up the 
mud and water that held him captive and enable him to move his 
army. 

Meanwhile he tested several projects which seemed to promise 
him a way of getting to the position below the city that he coveted. 
He tells us in his Memoirs that he regarded most of these experi- 
ments as rather hopeless, but pushed them forward, partially to give 



270 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

employment to his troops, and partly to let the people of the North 
see that liis army was not idle. Nevertheless he was ever ready to 
take advantage of the success of any one of these expedients, should 
success be won. 

Engineering more than fighting finally won Vicksburg for the 
Union cause. Throughout the six months during which Grant 
plodded stubbornly on, closing relentlessly in upon the doomed city, 
the pickaxe and shovel, the sap-roller, gabions, and fascines were the 
true weapons which the men in blue wielded to the discomfiture of their 
antagonists. Accordingly the first attempt made by Grant to get his 
army past the enemy's batteries was by means of a vast piece of 
engineering. 

Before Vicksburg the Mississippi River makes — or did make in 
1863 — one of those mighty bends for which it is famous. For three 
miles its current flows straight toward the city, then bending sud- 
denly flows straight away in a directly opposite direction. The 
peninsula inclosed between the almost parallel lines of the river is 
scarce a mile wide, and is lower than the river at high-water time, 
and protected by levees. For the whole six miles of river included 
in this bend, a vessel going up or down stream was exposed to the 
fire of batteries which no transport could ever pass. The idea was 
suggested to Grant that by cutting a canal across this peninsula, the 
current of the river might pour into it and make a channel through 
which the boats might pass. Though not wholly out of range of 
the hostile batteries, this route would leave the boats exposed to fire 
for only a mile, and on a dark night so short a gauntlet might safely 
be run. 

Accordingly the work was begun. Four thousand men threw 
down sword and musket to take up the shovel. Steam dredges 
were set to work. The canal grew apace. But the enemy was not 
idle. He brought up his heaviest guns and turned them upon the 
toilers in the big ditch. His shells drove the workmen away and 
knocked the dredges to pieces. Finally a bursting shell cut the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 271 

levee. The water quickly enlarged the gap so made, and rushing in 
flooded the whole peninsula so that Sherman's men came near being 
drowned by regiments. Thereafter that field of operations was aban- 
doned. 

A new idea now came to Grant. The whole country just west 
of Vicksburg was a maze of bayous, most of which were of sufTficient 
depth to float a transport steamer. Might there not be then some 
connecting waterways which, with a little dredging, and a few canals 
cut, would give a continuous channel from a point above Vicksburg 
to the Red River, which in turn empties into the Mississippi River 
below the city? 

This experiment too was tried. Surveying parties explored the 
bayous with care. A possible route was discovered and carefully 
mapped. It was thought that by cutting the levee at Lake Provi- 
dence, some seventy miles above Vicksburg, a water communication with 
the Red River might be had. This was accordingly done and the 
country was soon flooded. But the labor of sawing off the trunks of 
trees ten feet under water, and of dredging, was so great that Grant 
soon saw that there was no hope of completing this work with suf^- 
cient speed. So, although he allowed his soldiers to continue the 
work, he set about devising some other plan. 

It was to the eastern side of the river that the Union ofificers now 
directed their attention. It was useless to think of getting below 
Vicksburg on that bank, but the Yazoo River and the bayous connect- 
ing with it seemed to offer a route whereby a body of troops might be 
landed back of the city. Again levees were blown up and the current 
of the great river turned into the swamps and bayous. It was to the 
navy that the task of exploring this network of waterways fell, and the 
work was undertaken by Commodore Porter with great intrepidity. 
The unusual spectacle of ironclads afloat in the forest; running at 
full speed into bridges and knocking them down ; crawling through 
ditches with scarce a foot of leeway on either side, and generally 
deporting themselves like amphibious rather than purely marine mon- 



272 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

stcrs, was presented to the astonished Confederates. But these in 
their turn were not wanting in activity. They threw up forts at 
commanding positions. They swept the decks of the gunboats with 
a constant storm of bullets. They felled trees before and behind 
the boats, filled the bayous with obstructions, and once had Porter 
so completely entrapped that only the timely and unexpected arrival 
of Sherman with a small body of troops saved that gallant officer 
from the necessity of blowing up his whole flotilla. After the happy 
termination of that adventure, the gunboats sought deep water again 
and the search for Vicksburg's back door was abandoned.* 

l-5ut by this time the early Southern Spring was well advanced, 
and the roads which a month before had been impassable were now 
in fairly good condition. So abandoning his encampments, Grant 
marched his army southward by a road several miles from the river, 
returning to the river's bank opposite Grand Gulf. Here he was 
joined by Porter, who had run the batteries with his fleet. The 
Confederates knew of his coming and had built huge fires on the 
bank to light up the river, but though all the guns on the Vicksburg 
blufTs roared and flamed, the ironclads passed in safety, and one trans- 
port only was sunk. But though the actual casualties were thus 
trivial, the exploit seemed so hazardous when first proposed that none 
of the regular officers or crews of the river steamers that were 
pressed into service for transports dared to undertake it. Volunteers 
were called for, and among the regiments enlisted along the banks of 
the great rivers were found men enough, who were well versed in the 
art of river navigation, to man all the vessels. 

Having established his army on the western bank of the river 
opposite Grand Gulf, Grant requested Porter to attack the Confederate 
batteries on the bluffs, intending to send a force across the river as 
soon as the Confederate fire showed signs of weakening. But by this 



* For an account of the part taken by the navy in the siege of Vicksburjj, see 
"Hhie Jackets of 6i," by Willis J. Abbot. New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 
1886. 




RUNNING THE VICKSBURG BATTERIES. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 275 

time the Confederates had made of Grand Gulf a stronghold scarcely 
second to Vicksburg, and though Porter's eight gunboats hurled shells 
against their solid earthworks for five hours and a half, the guns on the 
hill-tops still responded spitefully, and the io,ooo men whom Grant had 
put on board the transports to be ready to cross the river as soon as 
an opportunity offered, were forced to march ashore again. Seventy- 
four men were lost by the navy in this engagement. General Grant 
now concluded that it was hopeless to attempt to gain a foothold 
on the eastern bank of the river at Grand Gulf, and accordingly 
marched his troops three miles further down the river, while the trans- 
ports slipped past the Grand Gulf batteries at night, under cover of 
a heavy bombardment by the fleet, and made their way to the same 
point. One of the "intelligent contrabands" who were always on hand 
to help the Union Generals in moments of perplexity, came to 
Grant's tent during the night, and told him that Bruinsburg, a few 
miles farther down-stream, afforded a good landing-place, with fair 
roads leading thence to the country back of Vicksburg which Grant 
sought to reach. 

To Bruinsburg accordingly the Federals turned their steps, and soon 
all the troops were safely ferried across the river. The Confederates 
were scarcely aware of the fact that their enemy had gained a foothold 
in their country, for Sherman, who had been left behind to cover 
Grant's movements, made such vigorous demonstrations against the 
northern side of Vicksburg as to lead its defenders to look for danger 
from that quarter only. 

Masterly, rapid and daring were the movements by which Grant, 
leaving Bruinsburg, marched straight into the enemy's country and 
thrust his army between the wings of the Confederate army, which, if 
they could but have effected a junction, would have crushed him; 
beating Johnston and Pemberton in detail, and cooping the latter up in 
Vicksburg; doing all this with his line of communication wholly aban- 
doned, and doing much of it in direct defiance of orders from Washing- 
ton. PVom the strategy of the campaign which ended with Pemberton. 



i270 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

locked up in Vicksburg and Grant holding the key, did the people 
of the North, civilians and soldiers alike, first learn to appreciate the 
military genius of the quiet volunteer soldier who ranks to-day with 
the great captains of history. Nevertheless, over the events of the 
campaign preliminary to the siege of Vicksburg we must pass hurriedly. 

No time was lost by Grant at Bruinsburg, but the very night 
of his arrival McClernand's division was pushed forward to Port Gib- 
son in the hope of saving a bridge there before the Confederates 
could burn it. But the enemy was first on the ground, and to the 
number of 8000 opposed McClernand's advance. All day the battle 
raged, and at nightfall the Confederates made an orderly retreat, burn- 
ing the bridge behind them. The bridge was rebuilt on floating rafts 
made of fence rails and lumber stripped from barns and houses in the 
neighborhood, and over this frail structure the men of Grant's army 
strode toward Vicksburg, — Crocker's division first, in hot pursuit of 
the Confederates, who were now fast retreating to the northward. 
Grand Gulf was evacuated by its defenders and seized by Grant for 
a base of supplies. Blue-clad soldiers now looked down upon the 
river from the frowning ramparts that had so long resisted the stoutest 
assaults of Porter's ironclads. 

Grant waited at Grand Gulf a day or two for Sherman to come 
up, then pushed onward. He had about 45,000 men under his com- 
mand ; his enemy, General Pemberton, had 50,000, but Grant's forces 
were concentrated while Pemberton's were widely scattered. The 
Union commander therefore determined to press hotly upon his ene- 
mies, fight them wherever found, prevent their concentrating, and 
beat them in detail. This was a more than ordinarily perilous plan 
of campaign. One road only led from Grand Gulf into the territory 
whither the Union army was going. It was useless to hope that 
all the supplies necessary for the sustenance of that army could be 
transported over that narrow highway. Sherman besought the general 
to abandon his plan, declaring that "this road will be jammed as 
sure as life," but Grant adhered to his purpose, believing that all the 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 277 



supplies that failed to get over the road could be obtained from the 
rich country through which the troops were to march. Events proved 
that he was right, for, except for a scarcity of bread, the troops 
endured no privations during the ensuing campaign. 

On the 1 2th of May, McPherson's division encountered the 
enemy, about 5000 strong, at Raymond. A battle followed in which 
the United States forces were easily victorious. The Confederate 
loss was 100 killed and 720 wounded and captured. McPherson's loss 
amounted to 442 men, of whom 66 were killed. 

The result of this battle was to put Grant squarely between the 
wings of the Confederate army. Pemberton was on his left with 
nearly 50,000 men. On his right, at Jackson, were 12,000 men with 
recnforcemcnts constantly coming up. General Joseph E. Johnston 
was hastening from Tennessee to take command of the forces at 
Jackson. He had seen long before the dangers to which Pemberton 
remained blind. "If Grant crosses, unite all your troops to beat 
him," he had telegraphed to Pemberton on the day Grant landed 
at Bruinsburg. "Success will give back what was abandoned to win 
it." But Pemberton failed to take the action suggested and now saw 
his army dismembered. 

Quick to take advantage of his favorable situation. Grant deter- 
mined to turn his back upon Pemberton and his 50,000 men, march 
to Jackson, demolish the Confederate force there, and then return and 
give battle to the larger force. To do this meant to relinquish even 
the narrow road that bound him to Grand Gulf. It meant the aban- 
donment of his base of supplies, and his line of communication with 
the outside world. Nevertheless the hazardous step was taken and the 
army was speedily put on the march for Jackson. When General 
Johnston reached that place he was told that all communication with 
Pemberton was cut off, and that Grant's legions were even then moving 
upon the slender force at Jackson. He foresaw disaster at once, and 
though he at once set about preparing to resist the coming attack, he 
sent off to the military authorities at Richmond the ominous dispatch, 
*T am too late." 



278 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

In the forenoon of 'Slay 14, the divisions of Sherman and McPher- 
son, wluMU Giant had sent forwiird to tlie attack ui)on Jackson, were 
approaching the town. A heavy spring rain was falHng in sheets. 
The roads were ankle-deep with mud and the fields like soaked 
sponges. Johnston sent two brigades two miles out from the city to 
meet his assailants. Walker's brigade, w liich opposed IMcPherson, 
made a desperate stand, and the soldiers fought for hours in the driving 
rain with damp cartridges. But the Confederates were only fighting 
to gain time, for Johnston was evacuating the town, and by noon 
IMcPherson had swept all impediments out of his path and was in 
the city. 

There was little time for the Federals to enjoy the fruits of 
this victor}-. In their rear Pemberton was marshaling his men to 
offer battle. Johnston was making strenuous efforts to effect a junc- 
tion with Pemberton and take command of the combined armies. 
Unfortunately for Johnston's plans he had a traitor in his employ, 
for one of the couriers engaged in carrying his dispatches to Pember- 
ton stopped by the way to give copies to Grant, who was thus kept 
fully informed of his enemy's plans, and enabled to defeat them. 

Leaving Sherman to destroy the railroads and whatever public 
property there was in Jackson, Grant turned his face westward, seeking 
the Confederate army. This was soon found aligned on the slope of 
Champion Hills. The Confederate commander had 23.000 men, well 
posted so as to cover all the roads leading to Vicksburg. The Fed- 
erals rushed into battle without delay and pressed the enemy hotly 
on every side. Logan's division even worked its way around on 
Pemberton's left flank and secured a position in the Confederate rear, 
covering the only road over which a retreat was practicable. But 
unfortunately the Federals did not appreciate the importance of the 
position thus gained, and when Hovey called for reenforcements Logan 
was sent to his aid. The road was thus uncovered and the Con- 
federate retreat speedil\' began. It was a narrow escape for Pember- 
ton. "Had McClernand come up with reasonable promptness," writes 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 270 

General Grant, "or had I known the ground as I did afterward', I 
cannot see how Pemberton could have escaped with any organized 
force. As it was he lost over three thousand killed and wounded, 
and about three thousand captured in battle and in pursuit." Grant's 
total loss in the battle was 2048, of whom 397 were killed. Among 
other trophies the Union forces captured twenty-four Confederate cannon. 

Pemberton's army by this time was thoroughly demoralized. The 
soldiers had lost confidence in their commanding officer, and Pemberton 
had lost confidence in himself. He had disobeyed the orders of John- 
ston, his superior officer. He had called a council of war to determine 
what course to adopt, and then disregarded the recommendation of a 
majority of the council. He had committed the blunder of trying to 
harass Grant by cutting his communications, when Grant was living on 
the country and cared nothing at all for his communications. P'inally, 
after his complete defeat at Champion Hills, Pemberton sought at once 
to shift the blame on some one else, and as he led the retreat said 
bitterly to those about him, "I call upon you, gentlemen, to witness 
that I am not responsible for this battle — I am but obeying the orders 
of General Johnston." He did not add that he had delayed giving 
obedience to these orders until too late for obedience to be a virtue. 

Downhearted, weary, and sullen the Confederates trudged away 
from the field of Champion Hills through the dreary country toward 
Vicksburg. Loud was the grumbling in the ranks. The soldiers 
openly declared that they would serve no longer under Pemberton. 
Many deserted the ranks. Hut the persuasions of their officers kept 
most of them in line until they reached the Big Black River where 
Pemberton determined to make another stand. Th2 Big Black is a 
deep, sluggish stream, bordered by steep bluffs on the west, and a 
level expanse of low bottom land on the east. Through the bottom 
land there flowed a bayou with a foot of water in its channel. 
Along this bayou the Confederates had built ramparts of cotton bales 
covered with earth. To defend this position Pemberton left a large 
detachment of troops, while the greater part of his army crossed the 



280 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Big Black on a single bridge and was posted on the high bluffs on the 
western side. 

On the i/th of ]\Ia}% Grant's advance encountered the resistance 
of the gray-coats behind the bayou. The Union soldiers were flushed 
with victory, .the Confederates depressed and demoralized. Without 
delay the Federals advanced to the attack, plodding through the 
muddy bayou, and threading their way through the thick vegetation 
which bordered it. In the midst of the battle came an order to 
Grant from Halleck, directing him to abandon his advance upon Vicks- 
burg, return to Grand Gulf, and co-operate with General Banks, who 
was then trying to capture Port Hudson. "I told the officer who 
brought it," writes Grant, "that the order came too late, and that 
Halleck would not give it now if he knew our position. The bearer 
of the dispatch insisted that I ought to obey the order, and was 
giving arguments to support his position, when I heard great cheering 
to the right of our line, and, looking in that direction, saw Lawler in 
his shirt-sleeves leading a charge upon the enemy. I immediately 
mounted my horse and rode in the direction of the charge, and saw 
no more of the officer who delivered the dispatch — I think not even 
to this day." 

The charge that General Lawler led in his shirt-sleeves decided 
the fortunes of the day. He had secured a position whence he could 
fall upon the flank of the Confederates. They made little resistance 
to his attack, but fled in the wildest confusion. The narrow bridge 
across the Big Black was soon thronged with fugitives, but Pcmberton, 
fearing that Grant's army would cross in pursuit, set fire to it, leaving 
thousands of men, hundreds of his wounded, and a score of guns in the 
hands of the Federals. Many of the Confederates plunged into the 
river to swim across, and not a few were drowned. Others disap- 
peared in the surrounding woods and made their way to their homes 
in different parts of the South, to serve no longer in the Southern 
ami}'. Nearly 1800 prisoners were taken b\' the victorious Federals. 

Grant's advance was now checked by the Big Black River, spanned 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 281 



by no bridge. Pcmberton marched straiglit into Vicksburg and shut 
himself and his army up there. This is the way that army looked 
to a woman who saw the weary and disheartened troops march in: 
"I never shall forget that woful sight of a beaten, demoralized army 
that came rushing back. Wan, hollow-eyed, ragged, footsore, bloody, 
the men limped along, unarmed, but followed by siege-guns, ambulances, 
gun-carriages, and wagons in endless confusion." 

General Pemberton, too, was sorely depressed. "Just thirty years 
ago I began my military career by receiving my appointment to a 
cadetship in the United States Military Academy," he said to a 
staff officer who rode into Vicksburg with him, "and to-day — the same 
date — that career is ended in disaster and disgrace." But he soon 
shook off his depression sufficiently to give active supervision to the 
work on the fortifications surrounding the city, which was immedi- 
ately begun. To this work every one in the city lent a hand. The 
"Yankees" were coming, and Vicksburg must be protected against their 
assaults, so civilian and soldier, slave and freeman worked side by 
side in the trenches. Pickaxes were lacking, but bayonets serv^ed 
instead; there were not shovels enough to go round, but the soldiers 
made wooden ones. And so, with thousands of willing hands at 
work, a chain of earthworks soon surrounded all the landward side of 
the city, and 102 guns, great and small, peered over the ramparts 
and bade Grant's army defiance. But to man these works he had 
but about 30,000 men. The few days in which he had been vainly 
striving to check Grant's advance had cost the Confederate com- 
mander no less than 14,000 men. 

On his arrival in Vicksburg Pemberton had sent off a courier to John- 
ston, thirty miles away, with the news of the disasters at Champion 
Hills and Big Black River. This is the answer that came speeding back : 

"If you are invested in Vicksburg you must ultimately surrender. 
Under such circumstances, instead of losing both troops and place we 
must, if possible, save the troops. If it is not too late, evacuate 
Vicksburg and its dependencies and march to the northeast." 



282 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

"Give up Vicksburg! Never! " exclaimed Pemberton when he 
received this order. It was then probably too late for him to under- 
take the movement ordered by Johnston, for Grant was by this time 
closing in upon him. But Pemberton estimated the value of Vicks- 
burg to the Confederacy too high to think for a moment of evacuating 
the town. So he replied to Johnston: 

"I intend to hold Vicksburg to the last. I conceive it to be the 
most important point in the Confederacy." 

Twenty-four hours later the last gap in the Union lines was filled 
up, and the Confederates were caught in a trap from which there was 
no escape, and into which no aid, no provisions, no munitions of war 
could find an entrance. 

It was the delay caused by the burning of the bridge across the 
Big Black River that gave the Confederates time to re-form their 
shattered ranks and build up their earthworks about Vicksburg. "But 
for the successful and complete destruction of the bridge," writes 
Grant, "I have but little doubt that we should have followed the 
enemy so closely as to prevent his occupying his defenses around 
Vicksburg." With the bridge destroyed, however, there was nothing 
to do but to devise other means for crossing the stream. Sherman 
had all the pontoons with him, and straightway built a pontoon bridge 
for his division. General Ransom contrived a unique structure by 
felling trees on opposite sides of the river, cutting the trunks only 
half through and throwing the trees so that they would fall with 
their tops interlacing without being wholly separated from their stumps. 
On these trees the bridge platform was built. Another bridge was 
built on floating rafts made of the timbers of a neighboring cotton 
gin. Yet another bridge was made by using great numbers of floating 
cotton bales for pontoons. All the bridges were completed with about 
twenty-four hours' work, and the long columns of infantry and the 
rumbling artillery trains passed safely over them and pressed relentlessly 
onward toward Vicksburg. 

On the 19th, all of Grant's troops were aligned before the defenses 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 283 

of Vicksburg. Commander and soldiers alike were exultant. They 
had achieved nothing but victories. The enemy had been both out- 
generaled and outfought. Flushed with victory, Grant thought that 
he needed but to put forward one more effort and Vicksburg would be 
his. He saw before him long lines of massive earthworks well gar- 
nished with cannon, but he thought those works were manned by a 
demoralized and beaten army which could not repel a vigorous assault. 
Events proved, however, that Grant had underestimated the task before 
him. Demoralized though the Confederates had been, their spirits, 
always buoyant, rose when they reached the shelter of their breast- 
works, and they felt themselves strong enough to withstand any attack. 
So it happened that Grant's attack on the afternoon of the 19th 
failed. McPherson and McClernand could not bring their men to the 
attack because of obstacles in their front. Only Sherman made an 
attack. He sent forward a body of regulars under Captain Washing- 
ton. They charged gallantly across a ravine, picked their way through 
a tangled abatis in the teeth of a pitiless fire, and rushed upon the 
intrenchments. Though men fell fast the parapet was reached. Cap- 
tain Washington scaled it and waved the f^ag he carried in his hand 
as a signal for his men to follow him, but at that moment a bullet 
struck him and he fell mortally wounded. The flag was captured by 
the Confederates. Though other assaults were made by other troops, 
none came so near success as the gallant Washington and his regulars. 
Grant concluded that the Confederates were not quite so demoral- 
ized as he had supposed, and concluded to wait a few days before 
renewing the assault. This time he occupied in establishing a base 
of supplies on the Yazoo River and revictualing his army. This work, 
by this time, had become necessary. Since landing at Bruinsburg 
the soldiers had been marching and fighting for eighteen days with but 
five days' rations. The neighboring farms provided pork and poultry, 
potatoes and corn meal, but bread was scarce. The day after the inef- 
fectual assault upon Vicksburg, General Grant was passing along the 
lines when a hungry soldier near him said in a low voice, "Hard tack I" 



28-t BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



Soon the cry was taken up all aloiii^ the line, and shouts of "Hard 
tack! Hard tack!" were heard on every side. "VVc are building a 
road now to the river," said the General, "and you soon will have full 
rations again." The outcry was stilled at once. 

After two days Grant determined to make another attempt to 
carry the enemy's works by assault. His troops were still flushed with 
victory and eager to put an immediate end to the campaign which had 
been thus far so successful. Moreover he knew that Johnston was in 
his rear with an army of no contemptible size, and it was to be 
expected an attack on the Union rear would soon be made with a 
view of raising the siege. 

Accordingly, on the morning of the 22d, the Union army in three 
columns pressed forward to the assault. From the river came the 
roar of great guns as Porter's gunboats flung their huge shells into 
the city, where they burst, tearing up streets, wrecking houses, and 
carrying terror to defenseless women and children. On the right of 
the Union line was Sherman's corps — tried veterans all. A desperate 
task is before them. High on a ridge in their front looms up the 
"Graveyard Bastion," so called from its proximity to a cemetery. 
Before it the ground is rugged, rising into hillocks, sinking into 
gullies. A deep ditch is between the bastion and the Union troops. 
It must be bridged, but how? Volunteers are called for. One 
hundred and fifty men step out, and provided with timbers, boards, 
and tools, will dash forward under the enemy's fire, and lay the bridge 
if the work can be done before the last of the builders shall 
be shot dead. Ewing's division stands ready to cross the bridge 
first. Then the divisions of Giles Smith and Kirby Smith will fol- 
low. Four Union batteries — twenty-four guns in all — are posted so 
as to sweep the Confederate works and cover the advance of the 
storming party. 

Ten o'clock has been set as the hour for the assault to begin 
all along the line. All the watches of the division commanders have 
been compared, that there may be no delay at any point. The hour 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 285 

draws near. The fury of the bombardment from the river, and the 
roar of the cannonade from all the field-guns on Grant's lines have 
given Pembcrton warning that an assault is to be made. Yet from 
all his works no gun speaks out in answer. He is hemmed in in 
Vicksburg with a scarcity of percussion caps. When he can get 
more he cannot tell, so the order has been given proliibiting firing 
on the skirmish line and directing all artillerists to save their fire for 
moments of the direst need. 

So the Graveyard Bastion stands sullenly silent, seemingly empty, 
while the Federals form before it for the assault. Ten o'clock has 
come. The Union batteries are pouring a rapid and concentrated fire 
upon the fort. The volunteers of the forlorn hope are running for- 
ward with timbers and boards in their hands. For a moment more 
there is no sign of the force and fury that is held pent behind those 
impassive walls of clay. Then suddenly the whole bastion is ablaze. 
Fire and smoke leap from the black muzzles of the cannon that peer 
from the embrasures. The parapet is black with riflemen, whose bul- 
lets whistle among the devoted soldiers below. There is no cessation 
in the Confederate fire. The rattle of the musketry and the deep 
boom of the cannon are united in one continuous roar. Before this 
withering blast the assaulting column halts irresolute. Some of the 
men fall back. Others press on and throw themselves into the ditch 
before the rampart, where they are safe from that terrible fire. A 
few daring ones scale the bastion and plant the flag upon it, but are 
quickly shot down. There on the Confederate ramparts the Stars 
and Stripes wave grandly. The Confederates strive to seize the flag, 
but are shot down by the Union men in the ditch. Throughout 
the day the flag waves proudly, riddled by the bullets of friend and 
foe alike, and surrounded by a heap of bodies clad in blue and gray. 
But it is only an empty sign of conquest, those colors floating over 
a hostile battlement, for the works cannot be carried, and night leaves 
the Confederates in safe possession. 

On Sherman's left was McPherson's corps. Here the Confederate 



28G BATTLL I'll.LDS AND CAMP FIRKS. 

position was no less stroni; and lu-Id the assailants at haw Before 
the (li\-isions of McArllinr and (hiiiuh)' tin- coiifp^uiat ion of tin- (.Mioniy's 
woiks was sneli tli.it to atte-nipt to sloiiu tlu'in would liavc been 
madiu'ss, and tlu-se troops w'cri.- forced to contc-nl themselves with 
standing alool, and pourin;.; in tluir iiic- at loni;' rani^e. Hnl Logan's 
division saw a chance of success and made a L;allant charge. Though 
a clc;ull\' hre was turned upon them, the well-disciplined regiments 
pressed forward until two regiments reached tile ilitch before the earth- 
works, and the colois of the Seventh Missouri were raised above 
tile rampart. Instantly tlie man wlio iudd liie colors was shot down. 
A second soldit-r seized them .uid met tlie same fate. Six color- 
I)eariMs were sliot down in as ni,m\' minutes, and the handful of men 
who had gained tlu- shelter of the ditch were forced to retreat witii- 
out haxini; ln-en able to scale the counterscarp. 

McCleniand's coips was on tlu- extreme left of the Union line. 
Here the i^xpeiieiice ol the otluM" corps was repeated. Iwo Iowa 
regiuu-nts chargeil boKlly up a steep hill and reached the tlitch of a 
fort on its summit. Ileie the greater part o( the assailants wxM'e 
forced to halt, but a handful of them, lieailed iiy Sergeant Josepli 
(irillitii. scaleil the countcMscarp. enteied the work, ami b\' desperate 
hand to liaiul t'lghting dro\e tlu- defiMulers out. A second Confeiler- 
.ite work on higher ground, oiu" huiulretl yards in tlie rear, commanded 
the interior of this foit. so th.it the \ictorious I'ederais could not 
long hold possession of it. iM.mting their colors tMi the parai)et the 
low.ms sought slu-ltt-i- in the ditch, wheie they were soon joined by the 
Se\-enty-se\ entli Illinois, wiiose colors were pi. iced besitle those of tlie 
low.i troo|)s. 

tlener.il (mmiU me.inwhile iiad posted liimself on tlie crest of a hill 
overlooking tiie iield. McPherson was a few hundred yartls in iiis 
front. Mct'lern.uid .i mile .ind .i li.iif to his left. Sherman .ibout a mile 
to liis right. lie couKl lie.ir the clu-ers of the men as they rushed 
forw;ird to the ch.irge, and through liis lield-gl.isses cinild w.itch the 
results. .Ml along the lines he witnessed liie same siuiils. The 




A SHELL IN THE STREETS OF VICKSBURG. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 289 

charges were desperate, the resistance stubborn. At several points 
the Union colors were floating above the enemy's works, but nowhere 
had the blue-coats gained a lodgement within the Confederate lines. 
Everywhere they were crowded in the ditches, safe from musketry or 
cannon shot, but suffering severely from the hand grenades which the 
enemy tossed into their midst. 

Grant had concluded that the assault was a failure, and was about 
to give orders for its abandonment, when a courier came galloping 
up. He brought a dispatch from McClernand. "We are hotly 
engaged with the enemy," it read. "We have part possession of two 
forts and the Stars and Stripes are floating over them. A vigorous 
push ought to be made all along the line." From his position Grant 
could see nothing of the successes reported by McClernand, but his 
doubts were set at rest when a second dispatch arrived from that com- 
mander, saying: "We have gained the enemy's intrenchments at many 
points, but are brought to a stand. I have sent word to McArthur to 
reenforce me if he can. Would it not be best to concentrate the, 
whole or a part of his command at this point?" 

Convinced by these reports that McClernand had won some notable 
successes, and that it only needed the cooperation of the rest of the 
troops to win a victory. General Grant ordered another assault all along 
the line. Nobly the soldiers responded to the call of their leaders. 
Gallantly they marched up to the earthworks only to be beaten back 
again by the pitiless hail of lead and iron. The assault was a failure, 
like those that had preceded it, and General Grant found out too 
late that McClernand's reported successes were purely imaginary. 
In his official report the general severely censured McClernand for mak- 
ing the incorrect statements which led to a renewal of the attack, 
and "resulted in the increase of our mortality list fully 50 per cent 
without advancing our position or giving us other advantages." 

The two assaults on the 19th and 22d of May cost the Union 
army no less than 4075 men. The Confederates, sheltered by their 
breastworks, had beaten them back with a loss of scarce 500. After 



21)0 BATTLl-: FIKLDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

the failure of the second assault on the 22cl, there lay on the ground 
before the Confetlerate works a threat number of the Union dead and 
wounded. The sufferings of the wountled were fearful to witness. 
Unsheltered from the broiling" sun, with no water to cjuench their 
burning thirst, with no surgeons to attend to their hurts, tlie)' lay 
there in agony between the two armies and their moans were borne 
on the breeze to their comrades. There were no Confederate wounded 
on the field. They had fallen within the breastworks and were 
speedily cared for. The men that la\' on the bloody field before 
the retUnibts all wore the blue, and it \\'as the tluty of the Union 
commamler to ask for an armistice that all might be gathered up and 
carried tenderly to the field hospitals. But for some inexplicable rea- 
son C I rant chose not to ask for a truce, and his wounded lay uncared 
for for two tlays, until the more humane Pembcrton suggested a ces- 
sation of hostilities long enough to enable the Union wounded to be 
renuned from the field. Hy this time many poor fellows were dead 
who, IkhI they received prompt care, would have easily recovered 
from their hurts. 

While the truce was in force General Sherman went to Pember- 
ton's chief engineer, who was walking about before the works, and 
luuuleil him a package of letters which some Northern friends of the 
Confederate ofificer had given him for delivery. 

"I thought this would be a good opportunity to deliver this 
mail before it got too okl," said Sherman. 

"Ves, General," was the response, "it would have been very old 
indeed, if you luul kept it until you brought it into Vicksburg yourself." 

"So you think, then, I am a very slow mail route?" 

"Well, rather," was the reply, alluding to the preparations making 
for a siege, "when you have to travel by regular approaches, parallels 
anil zig-zags." 

"Ves, that is a slow way of getting into a place," admitted Sher- 
man, "but it is a very sure way, and I was determined to deliver 
those letters sooner or later." 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 291 

The Union army now settled down to the task of reducin^r Vicks- 
burc;' by the slow and tedious operations of a regular siege. Tiie 
navy held the river and no aid could come to the imprisoned Con- 
federates that way. On the landward side the whole town was 
invested by Grant's forces, which were within two hundred yards of 
the Confederate lines. Through the zone of iron that Cirant drew so 
closely about the beleaguered Confederates, no wagon loads of provi- 
sions could force their way. A few alert, fleet-footed backwoods- 
men, heavy laden with percussion caps, did pick their way through 
the swamps and past the Union pickets, carrying their precious bur- 
den safely to Pemberton. Put save for this no assistance from the 
outside world could reach Vicksburg, and as there were 30,000 soldiers 
besides the normal po[)ulation shut up in the city, Grant knew that he 
had only to be patient and his foes would be brought to terms by 
starvation. 

Put Grant was too active a man to sit down and wait for hunger 
to do his work for him. He pressed his siege with as much energy as 
if there were danger of his foe escaping him. Me gathered reenforce- 
ments from all parts of the West until his army numbered over 70,000 
men. He pressed the negroes of the surrounding country into service 
and set them to digging. The engineers laid out a system of regular 
approaches and diagonals, and the soldiers with pickaxes and shovels 
were set to work. It was hard work and tedious. Many hundred 
yards had to be dug in order to get ten yards nearer the enemy's line. 
Put the soldiers were confident of victory and accepted the drudgery 
cheerfully. On top of the earth thrown from the trenches were piled 
sandbags with a little space between them. On the sandbags were 
laid logs. This made a wall higher than the soldiers' heads, pierced 
with loopholes for the sharpshooters to fire through. Ik-hind this 
wall the sappers and miners worketl in perfect safety, wheeling loads of 
dirt to the rear and carrying sap rollers, gabions and fascines to the 
front, while all the time the Union sharpshooters kept a steady stream 
of lead whistling over the enemy's earthworks. 



292 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

The Confederates were sorely harassed by this continual fusilade, 
to which they could make no adequate response owing to the scarcity 
of caps. "The enemy's sharpshooters were all splendid marksmen," 
wrote one of Pemberton's men, "and effectually prevented any of our 
men from rising above the parapet on pain of certain death, while it 
was an utter impossibility for our cannoneers to load the guns remain- 
ing in position on our line without being exposed to the aim of a 
dense line of sharpshooters." One of these sharpshooters, called 
"Coonskin" by the soldiers because he wore a cap made of that fur, 
was particularly active in his work. At night he would steal out from 
the Union lines and dig himself a pit near the Confederate works, 
where he would lie all day, picking off with his unerring rifle any rash 
Confederate who dared show himself within range. Finally he built 
a tall tower of railway ties, from the top of which he could look 
down into the enemy's trenches. Protected by the ties from the 
Confederate bullets he would stay in his tower for hours at a time, 
and became a veritable terror to the Confederates. 

Working day and night the Federals soon brought their lines 
close to the Confederate breastworks. At some points, scarce thirty 
feet separated them ; at others, the same wall of clay that protected 
the gray against the blue, protected equally the blue against the gray. 
The Confederates were not idle. They impeded the Federal advance 
by all means in their power. Flaming wads of tow were fired from 
large-bore muskets into the Union sap rollers and set them afire. 
The Federals promptly made new ones and kept them wet while in 
use. Hand grenades and shells were tossed into the nearest of the 
Union trenches and did great damage, though sometimes the Federal 
soldiers deftly caught them and tossed them back to explode within 
the Confederate lines. At one point the Federals had a screen of 
heavy timbers which resisted the shock of 13-inch shells. A barrel 
containing 125 pounds of gunpowder was rolled down upon it by the 
Confederates and touched off. The screen flew in all directions, and 
the air was filled with firing timbers. Then Grant's men becfan die- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 293 

ging mines under the enemy's works intending to blow them up. 
. Pemberton sank counter-mines to intercept them. The first mine 
touched off by the Federals buried six of the enemy alive in their 
counter-mine. The second mine was loaded with a ton of powder. 
When it exploded, it blew to pieces a whole corner of a Confederate 
fort, sending timbers, guns, and men flying into the air. One negro 
was thrown over into the Union lines alive, literally blown out of 
slavery. Some one asked him how high he had been thrown. 
"Dunno, massa; 'bout tree miles I think," was his answer. When 
the mine exploded, the Federal storming party rushed into the crater 
only to find that the Confederates had a second line of defense in the 
rear, and that as yet no breach had been made in Pemberton 's impene- 
trable breastworks. 

But other messages than shells and bullets passed between the sol- 
diers in the hostile trenches. Sometimes in the evening an informal 
truce would be declared. The tobacco which was plentiful in Vicks- 
burg would be tossed into the Union trenches, and bits of hard bread 
or paper parcels of coffee given in exchange. In exchange for North- 
ern newspapers the Southerners would pass out the Vicksburg paper, 
reduced to sore straits now because of the siege and printed on the 
blank side of wall paper. It was this paper that, by way of comment 
on the "Yankee boast" that Grant would eat his dinner in Vicksburg 
on the Fourth of July, remarked that the best rule for cooking a rabbit 
was, "First ketch your rabbit." 

The printing of its newspaper on wall paper was not the only evi- 
dence that the siege was bringing sore distress upon Vicksburg. The 
rations of Pemberton's soldiers had been cut down 75 per cent. 
"How do you like mule meat, Johnnie?" was the cheery way in 
which the blue-coats used to notify their gray-clad foes that they 
knew an unusual article of food was being served in Vicksburg. The 
citizens were starving, mule steaks and dressed rats hung in the mar- 
kets. The scarcity of provisions and the depreciation of Confederate 
money made prices enormously high. The shells from the gunboats 



294 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



kept dropping in the streets of the city, driving the people to live 
in caves. With starvation in their homes and death in the streets, 
the plight of the people of Vicksburg was indeed gloomy. 

It became evident to all in the city that the time was fast com- 
ing when surrender would become inevitable. The army had done 
nobly. It had beaten back every attempt of the Federals to pierce its 
lines. It had driven away Porter's gunboats, and sent the Cincinnati 
to the bottom. But the constant strain and the lack of food were tell- 
ing upon the soldiers. Johnston had made no sign of coming to their 
aid, and they saw no chance of relief from the persistent cannonade 
of their relentless antagonist, no hope of relieving their famished 
stomachs with full rations once more. A letter which Pemberton 
received on June 28, signed "Many Soldiers," gave him a hint of 
the sentiments which prevailed among his men. We quote a few 
sentences : 

"Everybody admits that we have covered ourselves with glory, 
but alas! alas! General, a crisis has arrived in the midst of our siege. 

"Our rations have been cut down to one biscuit and a small 
piece of bacon a day — not enough scarcely to keep body and soul 
together, much less to stand the hardships we are called upon to 
stand. 

"Men don't want to starve and don't intend to, but they call upon 
you for justice, if the Commissary Department can give it, but if it 
can't you must adopt some means to relieve us very soon. The 
emergency of the case demands prompt and decisive action on your 
part. 

"If you can't feed us you had better surrender us, horrible as 
the idea is, rather than sufTer this noble army to disgrace themselves 
by desertion. I tell you plainly, men are not going to lie here and 
perish: if they do love their country, self-preservation is the first 
law of nature, and hunger will compel a man to do almost anything. 
You had better heed a warning voice though it is the voice of a 
private soldier. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 295 

"This army is now ripe for mutiny unless it can be fed." 

How much effect this remarkable document had upon Pemberton, 
it is impossible to say. But he would have been more than blind 
had he failed to see that an early surrender was the only course 
open to him. For a time he cast about seeking some desperate expe- 
dient for escaping from his plight. He thought of trying to escape 
across the river, and actually began the construction of some hundreds 
of heavy boats. Then he considered the feasibility of making a bold 
dash and cutting his way through Grant's lines. Concerning the advisa- 
bility of this maneuver he consulted his division commanders on the 
2d of July, and received an almost unanimous report that the men 
were too much exhausted and enfeebled to make the effort. There- 
upon Pemberton determined to surrender. 

On the morning of the 3d of July work was going on as usual 
along the Union lines. Another assault had been planned for the 6th, 
and many of the men were at work filling bags with cotton to be 
used in filling the ditches, and making scaling ladders. Suddenly 
there appeared over the Confederate works a white flag, then another, 
and another, until over each of the chief Confederate batteries a 
white flag was floating. The blue-coats knew it meant surrender, and 
cheered until all the hills around rung with the echoes. 

Grant and Pemberton met under an oak tree between the lines 
to formulate the terms of surrender. Grant would hear of nothing 
but an unconditional surrender. "Men who have shown so much 
endurance and courage as those now in Vicksburg," said Grant, "will 
always challenge the respect of an adversary, and I can assure you 
will be treated with all the respect due to prisoners of war." But 
Pemberton would not agree to surrender unconditionally. He declared 
himself able to hold Vicksburg for some time longer, and would only 
surrender if liberal terms were allowed him. The conference broke 
up without any conclusion having been reached, Grant agreeing to 
send Pemberton a letter that night. It was agreed further, that hos- 
tilities should be discontinued until the negotiations were ended. So 



296 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



an unwonted quiet hung over the lines, while everybody was wonder- 
inij what would be the result of the conference between the two gen- 
erals commanding. 

There could be but one result to that conference. Pemberton was 
beaten and he knew it. He knew that his troops could not and 
would not resist the assault which Grant threatened to make on the 
next day. He knew that* the people of Vicksburg were crying aloud 
for the siege to be raised. And so after an interchange of letters the 
Confederate general declared his willingness to surrender. By a strange 
coincidence the surrender was made on the Fourth of July, which 
redoubled the enthusiasm of the victorious P'ederals. Yet there was 
little exultation on the part of the Union troops. They felt for 
their defeated foe, and were careful not to triumph over him openly. 
When the Federals marched into the town, the first thing the men 
in blue did was to open their knapsacks and give their half-famished 
foes a part of their plentiful rations. One bit of boasting over the 
victory was mightily enjoyed by the victors, for a soldier brought up 
in a printing oflfice went to the office of the Vicksburg newspaper 
and soon had out an edition announcing that the Yankees had caught 
their rabbit. 

On the afternoon of the 4th, the formal ceremonies of the surrender 
were completed. "They marched out of their intrenchments by regi- 
ments upon the grassy declivity immediately outside their fort," 
writes a Union man who saw Pemberton's army lay down its arms. 
"They stacked their arms, hung their colors upon the center, laid off 
their knapsacks, belts, cartridge boxes and cap pouches, and thus 
shorn of the accoutrements of the soldier returned inside their works 
and thence down the Jackson road into the city. The men went 
through the ceremony with that downcast look so touching on a sol- 
dier's face; not a word was spoken; there was none of that gay 
badinage we are so much accustomed to hear from the ranks of regi- 
ments marching through the streets; the few words of command 
necessary were given by their own officers in that low tone of voice 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 297 

we hear used at funerals. Their arms were mostly muskets and rifles 
of superior excellence, and I saw but very few shotguns or indiscrimi- 
nate weapons of any kind ; it was plain that Pembcrton had a splen- 
didly appointed army." 

More than anything else, except perhaps the battle of Gettysburg, 
the fall of Vicksburg discouraged and disheartened the people of the 
Confederacy. It was a notable triumph for the North. It made 
the military reputation of America's greatest soldier. Only in the 
campaigns of Napoleon can the student of military science find equally 
brilliant results accomplished with an equal force. Nor had it been 
a costly campaign for the Federals. Scarce 10,000 men had been 
lost, and of this number many were but slightly wounded and soon 
resumed their places in the ranks. At such light cost Grant had 
wholly destroyed an army of 46,000 men, captured 60,000 small arms 
and 260 cannon, taken Vicksburg, and re-opened the Mississippi River 
to navigation. 

For though Vicksburg was not the only Confederate stronghold on 
the banks of the great river, yet its fall ended Confederate domina- 
tion over the stream. At Port Hudson the enemy had batteries 
scarcely less powerful than those which had so long held Grant in 
check at Vicksburg. Here a garrison of 6000 men was besieged by 
General Banks. The same tactics as those in force at Vicksburg 
were followed by Banks. Ever tightening his lines about the belea- 
guered town he drew his forces nearer and nearer to the Confederate 
works, threatening an assault and rapidly bringing the besieged sol- 
diers to the verge of starvation. When Vicksburg fell Banks caused 
salutes to be fired all along the line. The Confederate pickets asked 
what it meant, and were told the reason. As soon as he had satis- 
fied himself of the truth of the report. General Gardner, who was in 
command, hoisted the white flag and surrendered upon the same terms 
as those granted at Vicksburg. 

Thus was the Mississippi opened and the Confederacy cut in two. 
The men of the Northwest had hewn their way to the Gulf. 







CHAPTER XI. 




MANKUVKRING HRAOG OUT OF TENNESSEE. — THE CHATTANOOGA CAMPAIGN. — 

ROSKCRANS'S AR.MV IN PERIL. P.ATTI.E OF CHICK. AM AUG A. THOMAS TO 

THE RESCUE, URAGG'S PLANS FOILED. STARVING IN CHATTANOOGA. 

OPENING THE CRACKER LINE. — GRANT IN COMMAND. — BATTLE OF WAU- 

HATCHIE. — BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN. MISSIONARY RIDGE. 

BRAGG's FINAL DEFEAT. 

IIILE Grant's guns were thundering away before Vicksburg, 
and while Lee and Meade were making those moves on 
the chessboard of war that ended in the decisive battle of 
Gettysburg, two other great armies were confronting each other in 
Tennessee, neither being anxious to move first. After the battle of 
Stone's River, which may fairly be called a drawn battle, the Con- 
federate Army of Tennessee under General Bragg, and the Union Army 
of the Cumberland uiuler General Rosecrans, remained intrenched near 
IMurfreesboro for some time watching each other. Rosecrans thought 
that by keeping his army always ready to attack Bragg he would 
keep the Confederate commander from sending any troops to the 
assistance of Pemberton at Vick.sburg. Bragg for his part had con- 
cluded to adopt precisely similar tactics to prevent Rosecrans from 
sending any troops to Grant, and the two armies accordingly remained 

inactive until after Vicksburg had fallen, though they were but a 

29S 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 299 



few miles apart. Throughout the summer they marched and counter- 
marched, threatened, made demonstrations, skirmished and did every- 
thing except to meet in battle. There was a great deal of strategy, 
but, except for a few cavalry raids, very little fighting, so that Lee's 
trusty lieutenant. General D. H. Hill, who had been sent to take 
command of a corps in Bragg's army, was moved to say to a fellow- 
officer, "When two armies confront each other in the East, they get 
to work very soon, but here you look at one another for days and 
weeks at a time." 

"Oh, we out here have to crow and peck straws awhile before 
we use our spurs," was the laughing response. 

The battle of Stone's River was fought on the ist and 2d of 
January, 1863, and though the two armies were almost within sight 
of each other for the next eight months they did not again come to 
blows until the middle of September. In the meantime by a series of 
rapid marches and demonstrations, Rosecrans had succeeded in forcing 
his antagonist back step by step until September found Bragg's army 
quartered in Chattanooga in the extreme southeast corner of the State. 
The Federal campaign was a brilliant one, and rightly won for General 
Rosecrans the favorable attention of students of military science, for, 
with but a trivial loss to his own army, he had pushed a powerful 
adversary backward for hundreds of miles and had freed the greater 
part of the State of Tennessee from Confederate domination. Burn- 
side had led an expedition into the mountainous regions of eastern 
Tennessee, driving Buckner away from Knoxville, and his successes with 
those of Rosecrans resulted in the disappearance of gray uniforms and 
barred flags from all parts of Tennessee save the region surrounding 
Chattanooga. 

But of all places in Tennessee, Chattanooga was the one which the 
national authorities least desired to see occupied by a Confederate 
force. Its geographical position is commanding. It is the chief 
southern gateway between the East and the West, and owing to that 
fact bears to-day the name "The Gate City." Through Chattanooga 



3(J0 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

passed the railroads that led from Vicksburg and Mobile to the chief 
towns of northern Mississippi, Tennessee, and Kentucky. With Chat- 
tanooga once in the hands of the Federals the Confederacy would be 
split in twain. No longer could the rich spoils of Tennessee farms be 
sent to feed the armies about Richmond. No lonfjer could a brigade 
be put on the cars at Richmond and sent rumbling away to reiinforce 
some threatened Confederate post in the West, Federal occupation of 
Chattanooga meant the shutting off of all communication between the 
East and West. 

Accordingly, having driven Bragg into Chattanooga, Rosecrans 
immediately set about devising a way of driving him out. The prob- 
lem was greatly complicated by the physical configuration of the 
country about the town. The Tennessee River flows broad and deep 
before the city, which lies in a little valley between two rugged ridges 
of lofty hills. To cross the river directly in front of the city meant 
for Rosecrans to ferry his troops over in the teeth of the enemy's fire. 
To cross either above or below the town was to have added to the 
peril of crossing a broad, swift stream, the labor of scaling mountain 
ridges or the hazard of leading a column of troops through narrow and 
tortuous passes in which an enemy might lie ambushed. 

After duly considering the situation, Roescrans determined to cross 
the river below the city and advance against Bragg from the south. 
His first care was to deceive his enemy as to the plan of cam- 
paign he had adopted. General Hazen with four brigades was 
entrusted with this task and sent up-stream to appear on the bank 
at every bridge and ford above the town threatening to cross. 
Hazen's work was well done. A myriad of camp fires marked the 
nightly halts of his fifteen regiments. His days' marches were slow 
as though he had a huge army to handle. His scouts and small 
detachments of his forces were seen by the enemy's pickets and scouts 
at every crossing place for a hundred miles above the city. Bragg was 
worked into a fever of apprehension, and exerted all his energies toward 
meeting an attack upon Chattanooga from the north. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 301 

Under cover of this diversion Rosecrans rapidly pushed his army 
across the stream below Chattanoocja. 15y three different roads the 
divisions of Thomas, McCook, and Crittenden marched toward Chatta- 
nooga. The news of their advance was carried by swift scouts to 
^^^SS' H^ saw himself threatened from a hitherto unsuspected 
quarter. Moreover he at once recognized the fact that unless he 
instantly evacuated Chattanooga, Rosecrans would place his army 
between him and his communications, cutting oH the reenforcements 
he was hourly expecting from Richmond, and blocking up the only 
path by which he could retreat, should the impending battle go 
against him. Bragg was not one of the great generals of the South, 
but he was quick to recognize the necessity which had been forced 
upon him by the able strategy of Rosecrans. Not underestimating 
for a moment the value of Chattanooga, he concluded that he could 
best defend the city by evacuating it and giving battle to the enemy 
elsewhere. 

Meantime the Union army was closing in upon Chattanooga by 
slow and toilsome marches. Crittenden's division, which marched by 
the bank of the Tennessee, made the most rapid progress, having no 
mountains to climb. His vanguard entered the town just as the last 
regiments of the Confederate army were marching out. But the other 
divisions of the Union army were having a weary and a laborious time 
of it. Sand and Raccoon mountains had to be passed, and the steep 
slopes of Lookout Mountain to be scaled. The narrow, rugged, pre- 
cipitous country roads were wholly insufficient for the needs of the 
marching column. With axes, spades, and picks the soldiers labored to 
prepare the road for the passage of the ponderous artillery and the 
ammunition and supply trains. The regular artillery teams were power- 
less to drag the heavy guns up the steep incline. Though doubled 
they were still unequal to the task. Soldiers tugged at long ropes; 
soldiers put their shoulders to the wheels, pushing, hauling, forcing 
the heavy field-pieces along through ruts and over rocks until the sum- 
mit was reached. Nor was the descent of the mountain-side accom- 



3U2 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

pHshed witli nuich greater ease. The task then was to hold back and 
check the heavy guns and wagons lest their too rapid descent should 
end in disaster. 

In order to utilize the roads that cross the Lookout range it 
became necessary for Rosecrans to permit his army to become widely 
scattered. Thus when on September 9, Crittenden entered Chatta- 
nooga, McCook was on the crest of the Lookout range forty-six miles 
south, while Thomas was twenty miles below McCook on the same 
range. This was a situation which would have given the Union com- 
mander much uneasiness had he not confidently believed that Bragg 
was retreating in all possible haste without intending to strike a 
blow. This belief was carefully fostered by Bragg, who sent into 
Rosecrans's lines soldiers, pretending to be deserters, who told doleful 
tales of the panic in Bragg's army and the disorderly haste with 
which the retreat was being conducted. Moreover the Union war 
authorities at Washington were in complete ignorance of the move- 
ments of Bragg's army, and were sending to Rosecrans dispatches 
which increased his confidence in the theory that his adv^ersary was 
in full retreat. As late as September 11, General Halleck tele- 
graphed, "It is reported here by deserters that a part of Bragg's army 
is reenforcing Lee." Instead of this being the case, however, a part 
of Lee's army was reenforcing Bragg, for at that very moment a large 
portion of Longstreet's famous corps was on the cars and speeding 
away toward Chattanooga. 

In fact Bragg was not retreating. He had shifted his position 
just enough to inspire Rosecrans with a dangerous confidence, and was 
now rapidly concentrating his army again with a view to falling upon 
the scattered Union divisions and crushing them one by one. 
Though in this purpose he failed completely, it cannot be said that 
his ill success w^as due to any failure on the part of Rosecrans to 
afford him the wished-for opportunities. More than once \-ictory 
was placed within his very grasp and he failed to clutch it. He him- 
self lays the responsibility for this failure upon his subordinates — nota- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 303 

bly upon General Polk, whom he charges with disobedience of orders — 
but there are not wanting miHtary critics who dechire that Bragg him- 
self was the author of his own misfortunes. An undue haste to attack 
caused him to miss his first opportunity to seriously cripple Rosecrans's 
army. Repeated and most inexplicable delays robbed him of his final 
chance to win on the borders of the Chickamauga Creek a complete 
and decisive victory. 

On the loth of the month the advance division under General 
Negley, of Thomas's corps, had crossed Lookout Mountain by way of 
Stevens's Gap and passed into the narrow valley known as McLemore's 
Cove. Continuing his march eastward, Negley came to Dug Gap 
which opened a way through Missionary Ridge. Here he found 
his way blocked, for the Confederates had felled trees across the 
road in such numbers that it was impossible for an artillery train to 
pass, and even the progress of a column of infantry was greatly 
impeded. While Negley was hesitating before these obstructions 
Bragg saw an opportunity to fall upon him and cut him off. Orders 
to that effect were accordingly issued to Cleburne and Hindman, but 
the obstructions which had embarrassed the Federals in their advance 
now proved their salvation, for by them the march of the Confeder- 
ates was so greatly impeded that Negley had time to fall back to 
Stevens's Gap and there concentrate with Baird. Meantime contra- 
dictory orders and the lack of proper discipline among Bragg's division 
commanders led to such irresolution and lack of concert of action that 
the attempt to cut Negley and Baird off was abandoned. Cleburne 
made one attack on Negley, but encountered such a vigorous resist- 
ance from two companies of Illinois troops sheltered behind a wall, 
that he speedily retired, Hindman following him after a short can- 
nonade of the Federal positions. For this failure to make a vigor- 
ous attack Bragg severely censured these officers in his report, but 
he had ordered Hindman, "If }'ou find tlie enemy in such great 
force that it is not prudent to attack, then fall back through Catlett's 
Gap to Lafayette," 



JJ04 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Having thus failed to seize upon his opportunity to cut off and 
demolish Negley, Bragg turned his attention toward Crittenden, who 
was then marching from Chattanooga down the valley to form a 
junction with the other divisions of the Union army. Crittenden's 
corps was split up into three divisions widely separated. "You have 
a si)lendid opportunity of crushing Crittenden in detail," telegraphed 
Bragg to Polk about sunset on the I2th of September, "and I 
hope you will avail yourself of it at daylight to-morrow. I shall be 
delighted to hear of your success." Polk was with a whole Con- 
federate corps only three miles from Lee and Gordon's mills, where 
was General Wood with only two brigades of Union troops. It 
would have been easy for the Confederate commander to crush this 
slender force, but he believed that Crittenden was rapidly concentrating 
his division to attack, and so, instead of marching against Wood, Polk 
took up a defensive position and telegraphed Bragg, "I have taken up 
a strong position for defence but need reenforcemcnts." And though 
Bragg sent strenuous messages to Polk urging an immediate attack, and 
followed them up by going himself to the front, Polk remained snugly 
ensconced in his defensive position, while Crittenden marched back and 
forth before him with what the Confederate General Hill calls, "delight- 
ful unconsciousness that he was in the presence of a force of superior 
strength." 

But it was not alone because of his failure to demolish the scat- 
tered divisions of his enemy that these movements were unfortunate for 
Bragg and his cause. The narrow escapes of Crittenden and Negley 
warned Rosecrans that his antagonist was not making a disorderly 
retreat but was really concentrating and preparing to give him battle. 
Roused into frantic activity by the discovery, Rosecrans sent out vigor- 
ous orders providing for the immediate .concentration of his troops. 
The whole Union army was almost instantly put in motion. Long 
and rapid marches were made, and by the i8th the greatest danger was 
passed and a substantial concentration of the army efTected. To all 
this activity on the part of his foes Bragg was seemingly blind. He 




IN THE TKLNCHES. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 307 

allowed tl.'iy after clay to pass without striking the blow he had ordered 
Polk to strike on the 13th, and which might have been delivered with 
equal effect on any one of the two or three days following. So firmly 
rooted in his mind was the idea that Rosecrans was doing nothing 
toward rectifying his positions, that, when General Longstreet reported 
to him some highly im[)ortant and correct information concerning the 
whereabouts of the hY-derals obtained in a reconnoissance by Colonel 
Baylor, the Confederate commander exclaimed petulantly, "Colonel 
Baylor lies. There is not a Union infantry soldier south of us." 
And to this opinion he obstinately adhered until it was too late to 
prevent the concentration of Rosecrans's army. 

The night of the i8th of September saw long lines of blue-clad 
soldiers, weary with forced marches and dusty and bedraggled with the 
dirt of mountain roads, swinging into position along the western bank 
of Chickamauga creek. "The river of death" is the literal meaning of 
the harsh Indian name by which this stream is known. Through the 
woods, across broad pastures and cultivated fields that bordered on the 
rivulet with the sombre name, stretched the Union army; divided no 
longer but drawn up in line of battle, alert and ready for the conflict. 

P^'om the summit of Pigeon Mountain beyond the Chickamauga, 
Bragg's scouts looked down upon the I^Y-deral brigades swinging into 
line. The Confederate commander himself was there, availing him- 
self of the opportunity afforded to study the exact dispositions of his 
foe. If Bragg felt any chagrin at seeing thus concentrated before him 
an army which he might have dismembered he gave no expressions to 
this thought. Heavy reenforcements had come to him during the 
day, and now with 70,000 men to 55,000 Federals he felt confident 
that he could crush his foe. 

The plan of battle chosen by General Bragg was substantially 
the same as that adopted by him at Stone's River. While hoUling 
Rosecrans's attention by demonstrations all along the line, he pur- 
posed to concentrate his main attack on the Federal left, crushing 
that by force of men and metal, and swinging the Federals around 



30S BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP TIRES. 

as on a pivot. Unluckily for the success of his plan he put 
General (and Bishop) Polk in command of his right wing, while the 
Federal left was under the command of General Thomas, who proved 
more than a match for his clerical antagonist. 

On the night of the iSth there was little activity among the 
Confederates. Bragg did nothing more than to push two divisions 
across the Chickamauga, and issue his orders for the battle of the 
following day. As it happened, this advance of a small portion of 
the Confederate force led to the initiative being taken by the 
Federals in the next day's battle, for a party of Federal cavalrymen 
burnt the bridge behind the Confederate vanguard and then galloped 
off to tell Thomas, who had just come up, that a small body of his 
foes were in his power, cut off from their friends and unable to 
retreat. 

With the dawn of the 19th Thomas is ready for action. He 
sends forward two brigades toward Reed's bridge to engage the Con- 
federates who have crossed. They meet P^orrest's cavalry and easily 
put it to flight, but two brigades of foot-soldiers in butternut gray 
come up and check the tide of battle. While the lines are being 
reformed, Liddell's Confederate division, 2000 strong, and fresh and 
vigorous after four days of inactivity, comes up and falls furiously 
upon the Union troops, which give way for the moment in seemingly 
hopeless disorder. The exultant Confederates rush madly forward 
with frantic yells. The men of Brannan and Baird's division give 
way before the assault and rush i)cll-mell to the rear. Even the 
three regiments of regulars gave way. Onl}- the artillerists stand 
sturdily in line. It is too late to escape with their guns, they prefer 
to die rather than to leave them. Loomis's Michigan battery is one of 
the two captured. From the beginning of the war it has been at the 
very front of the line of battle, and the very wood and metal of its 
guns are dear to its members. Nearly all the gunners die by the side 
of their cannon, and Lieutenant Van Pelt fights madly against whole 
regiments with his single sabre until he is cut down amid his euns. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 309 



Hut now the tide of war, whicli has been scttinj^r so strongly against 
the Federals, turns. Two fresh divisions come up and are thrown into 
the fight. This enables the Federals to outflank their adversaries and 
the Confederates are driven in their turn, losing a large number of pris- 
oners and the batteries which they had just captured. Before the 
advance of the reenforced Federals is checked the Confederates have 
been driven back to the line of Chickamauga Creek, and though they 
try time and again to regain their lost ground, nightfall finds them no 
further advanced than when they went into battle at ten o'clock in the 
morning. The first day's fighting ends in the triumph of the Federals, 
for they have held their position and beaten back all efforts to drive 
them. 

That night there was activity along the lines of both armies. 
The course of the day's battle had clearly revealed Bragg's plan of 
action to his adversaries, and Rosccrans spent the night in sending 
heavy detachments of troops over to his left flank, where he felt 
sure the attack would be fiercest in the morning. Bragg for his 
part changed the organization of his army, dividing it into two wings 
and giving Polk command of the right, and Longstreet of the left. 
Polk was ordered to attack at daylight in the morning. To him 
was left the weighty responsibility of sustaining the brunt of the 
conflict. Success in his front meant the cutting off of the Nationals 
from Chattanooga and the certain destruction of the Federal army. 
Heavy reenforcements for the Confederates came up during the night, 
and Bragg felt that at last victory was within his grasp. 

Morning dawned. The gray light of early dawn brightened into 
the rosy flush of the sunrise. The hum of voices and the rumb- 
ling of wagons arose from both the hostile camps, but there came no 
sound of battle from Polk's position, and Bragg paced up and down 
before his headquarters impatiently listening for the boom of the can- 
non that should tell him that Polk had gone into action. A staff 
of^cer sent to hasten the clerical general brought back the disappoint- 
ing message: "Please inform the general commanding that I have 



aiO BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

alrc.ul)' oixlcrcd General Hill into action; tliat I am waitin<j^ for him 
to beijin; and do please say to General Bragg that my heart is over- 
flowing with anxiety for the attack." Bragg then galloped off in 
person to find Hill. It was eight o'clock when this officer was 
foiuui. His troops were leisurely breakfasting around their camp-fires. 

"Why have you not begun the attack?" asked Bragg with some 
indignation. 

"I have received no order to that effect," responded Hill with 
surprise. 

"I fiHind Polk after sunrise sitting down reading a newspaper at 
Alexander's britige, two miles from the line of battle where he ought to 
have been fighting," continued Bragg hotly. His orders had miscar- 
ried, and as usual he was inclined to charge his officers with flagrant 
neglect of duty in not having obeyed orders that they had not 
receix'cd. 

Soon after Bragg's arrival the battle opened. For a time the 
Federals were driven back, but Rosecrans hurried forward heavy reen- 
forcements to the aid of Thomas and the lost ground was soon 
recovered. The Rossville road was the point for which both armies 
contended, ami it was heKl now by one and then by the other. If th.e 
Confotlerate attack was spirited, the Union defense was stubborn, and 
the carnage was frightful. But Thomas, whom the Confederate Gen- 
eral Hill calls "the savior of the Union army," was equal to his task, 
and though the fury of the Confederate attack forced his line back, he 
opposed a stout resistance and successfully blocked Bragg's endea\or to 
flank the Union line. But his success was won at heav}* cost. 
Though protected by breastworks of logs and fence rails, Thomas still 
found the Confederate attacks so fierce that he was obliged to send 
repeatedly to Rosecrans for assistance. In answer to his appeals the 
divisions of Negley, Van Cleve, McCook and the reserve brigade of 
Brannan ^\■ere sent to his assistance, while orders were sent to Sheridan 
to be ready to follow at an instant's notice. All this weakened the 
Federal right wing, and when Longstreet, "the hammer," began to send 



BATTLK FIKLDS AND CAMP FIRES. 311 



his brigades against that part of the Union h"nc. Rosecrans became 
apprehensive that his right would be crushed. Seeking to remedy his 
fancied error he sent orders out for tiie rearrangement of his Hnes. 
One of these was to General Wood, whose division was posted on the 
right center. "The general commanding," it read, "directs that you 
close up on Reynolds as fast as possible, and that you support him. 
This order, written by one of Rosecrans's staff ofificers, was contradic- 
tory in its terms and meaningless. To "close up" in its military sense 
means to take position beside another body of troops so that the two 
shall form one continuous line. "To support" means to take a posi- 
tion in the rear. Both could not be done, and General Wood, instead 
of sending back to Rosecrans for an explanation of the contradictory 
order, concluded to support Reynolds, and accordingly withdrew his 
command to a position in the rear of Reynolds. This left a gap in 
the Union lines directly opposite Longstreet, which was instantly 
observed by that able commander. Instantly he began to pour his 
troops into the opening. Bushrod Johnson's three brigades were first 
into the gap. Hindman and Kershaw followed fast. No raw 
untried troops these, but veterans who followed Lee and Longstreet 
and Jackson in all the bloody campaigns against the Army of the 
Potomac, and who were on their mettle now and anxious to show 
their Western brethren in arms how the Virginia soldiers could fio-ht 
"On they rushed," writes General Hill, "shouting, yelling, running over 
batteries, cai)turing trains, taking prisoners, seizing the headquarters 
of the Federal commander at the Widow Glenn's, until they found 
themselves facing the new Federal line on Snodgrass Hill. Hindman 
had advanced a little later than the center and had met great and 
immediate success. The brigades of Deas and Manigault charged 
the breastworks at double-quick, rushed over them, drove Laiboldt's 
F'ederal brigade of Sheridan's division off the field down the Ross- 
ville road; then General Patton Anderson's brigade of Hindman, hav- 
ing come into line, attacked and beat back the forces of Davis. Sheri- 
dan and Wilder in their front, killed the hero and poet. General 



;U2 BATTLK FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Lytic,* took IIOO prisoners, 27 pieces of artillery, commissary and 
ordnance trains, etc." 

This, then, was the situation after Wood's fatal blunder: On the 
left of the Union line Thomas, holdintj his line gallantly; his men in 
the breastworks that made a semicircle about the crest of Snodgrass 
Hill; the enemy to his right, left, and in his front. On the far 
right of the Union line were Sheridan and Davis with five fresh 
brigades cut off from all communication with Thomas and practically 
useless for further employment against the enemy. In the center, 
where the line had been pierced, was a motley throng of disorganized 
infantrymen, teamsters, and camp followers all rushing to the rear. 
The Dry Valley road that led to Rossville, where the Union reserve 
were posted, was thronged with wagons, empty caissons, ambulance, 
mounted men and men on foot, all with one thought and one pur- 
pose, to escape from the field of battle. In this torrent of fugitives 
Rosecrans was caught. He had made an attempt to reach Thomas, 
but found his progress in that direction blocked by the enemy, and 
was now drifting with the tide toward Rossville. With him was his 
chief of staff, James A. Garfield, many years afterward President of 
the United States. 

The information volunteered by the stragglers was not encouraging. 
"The entire army is defeated and is retreating to Chattanooga," said 
one; "Rosecrans and Thomas have both been killed, and McCook and 
Crittenden are prisoners," declared another. From the mass of true 
and false report Rosecrans sifted the one fact that most of the dis- 
orderly fugitives were from Negley's division, and that the division had 
been cut to pieces. As Negley had been sent to reenforce Thomas, 
Rosecrans reasoned that disaster to Negley meant disaster to Thomas, 

♦General Lytle will long be remembered as the author of the poem, "The death of 
Mark Antony," beginning : 

" I am dying, Egypt, dying, 
Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast." 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 313 

and accordingly concluded that the left wing had been crushed like 
the right. Believing then that his army had sustained a complete 
defeat, Rosecrans hastened to Chattanooga, in order to be there to 
meet and rally the disorganized troops of fugitives that were making 
for that place. 

General Garfield, however, did not feel satisfied with the informa- 
tion gleaned. He wanted to go and find Thomas, and receiving per- 
mission from Rosecrans set out. Evading the Confederates by whom 
Thomas was nearly surrounded, he soon stood at that General's side. 
He found him stubbornly holding his ground after a bloody contest 
which had resulted in holding for the Federal arms the spot which was 
the key to the whole battle field. 

When Longstrect pierced the Union center, Thomas was engaged 
in repelling a spirited attack on his left. Bragg was still anxious to 
turn his flank, and sent Breckinridge forward to make an attack for that 
purpose. The ofTficer in command at the point threatened sent in 
haste to Thomas for reenforcements, and Thomas sent an aide to bring 
up Sheridan. The messenger soon returned with terrifying tidings. 
He could not find Sheridan. He could see no signs of the divisions 
that should Jiave been covering the right of Thomas's line. He had 
gone but a few rods when he met a long line of men in gray, with 
skirmishers advanced approaching on the right flank. 

Thomas understood at once what had happened. The Union line 
had been pierced, and he had now to repel assaults on both his flanks 
as well as in his front. It was a trying situation, but Thomas ne\-er 
faltered. With his men behind his improvised breastworks and his can- 
non flaming from a commanding hillock in his rear, he set about mak- 
ing a cool, deliberate, stubborn defensive fight, making sure that help 
would come from some quarter. 

Help did come and from an unexpected quarter. 0\'er at Ross- 
ville was General Gordon Granger in command of the Union reserves. 
A soldier of fiery temper, he became restive at being kept in inactivity. 
When to the sound of the Sabbath church bells of Chattanooga there 



ai4 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

succeeded the heavy booming of the cannon along the line of battle, 
Granger grew impatient. 

"He walked up and down in front of his flag nervously pulling his 
beard." It is Granger's chief of staff who tells the story. "Once 

stopping he said, 'Why the does Rosecrans keep me here? There is 

nothing in front of us now. There is the battle,' pointing in the 
direction of Thomas. Every moment the sounds of battle grew 
louder, while the many columns of dust rolling together were mingled 
with the smoke that hung over the scene. 

"At eleven o'clock, with Granger I climbed a high hay-rick near 
by. We sat there for ten minutes listening and watching. Then 
Granger jumped up, thrust his glass into its case and exclaimed with 
an oath, T am going to Thomas, orders or no orders.' 'And if you 
go' I replied, 'it may bring disaster to the army and you to a court 
martial.' 'There's nothing in our front now but ragtag bobtail cav- 
alr\-,' he rci)licd. 'Don't you see Bragg is piling his whole army on 
Thomas? I am going to his assistance.'" 

A few minutes later Granger was marching his troops along the 
dusty roatl toward Snodgrass Hill, four miles awa}', where Thomas was 
holding his own against heavy odtls. The column of relief arri\-cd not 
a minute too soon. Thomas had held his ground bravely and had 
beaten back Polk's men, who were attacking on his right, with such 
vigor that Bragg told Longstreet there was no more fight left in them. 
But Loiigstrcet's troops were better disciplined and were pressing 
Thomas hotly. Just as Granger can.ie up a force of Confederates were 
advancing through a gorge, while on a ridge behind a noted Southern 
battery was unlimbering its guns for an enfilading fire. Thomas had 
no men to repel this threatening attack, but Granger's arrival gave him 
new strength. "Can you carry that jiosition?" he asked. "Yes," 
rcplictl Granger, "My men are fresh aiul they are just the fellows for 
that work. They are raw troops ami the>' don't know any better 
than to charge up there." 

The charge was made, Steedman leading it with the regimental 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 315 



colors in his hand. In twenty minutes the gorge was cleared and 
the ridge carried. The cost in human life was fearful, but the reward 
was the salvation of the army. 

It was soon after this success had been won that Garfield reached 
Thomas's position. He had expected to find disaster impending, but 
saw instead a strong position stubbornly held by Union soldiers, who, 
though greatly outnumbered, still were confident of holding their 
ground. He quickly started a courier galloping off to Chattanooga to 
find Rosecrans with a dispatch: "General Thomas holds his own 
ground of the morning— the hardest fighting of the day is now going 
on. I hope General Thomas will be able to hold ' on here till night 
and will not have to fall back farther than Rossville, perhaps not any. 
All fighting men should be stopped there. I think we may retrieve 
the disaster of the morning— I never saw better fighting than our men 
are now doing. The rebel ammunition must be nearly exhausted, ours 
fast failing. If we can hold out an hour more it will be all right." 
While Garfield was writing his dispatch, Longstreet was massing 
his troops to try to retake the position whence the Confederates had 
been driven by Steedman. He sent to Bragg asking that some of 
Polk's men be sent to aid him. Bragg returned word that Polk's 
men had been beaten so badly that there was no more fight in them. 
At that moment Rosecrans and Bragg each thought that his respec- 
tive army was defeated. Longstreet then tried to carry the position 
with four brigades from his own command headed by General Preston, 
but though the assault was gallantly made it was repulsed with fear- 
ful slaughter. Nor for the rest of the day, though the Confederates, 
charged again and again, though the National ammunition gave out 
and the Federals were obliged to rely upon the bayonet, was any gap 
made in Thomas's lines. The sun went down leaving Thomas still 
holding his ground. He had saved the Union army and won for 
himself the name of "the Rock of Chickamauga." 

Night was falling over the little town of Chattanooga when a 
cavalryman came galloping up the street, threading his way among 



310 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



the waijjcins and ambulances tlial filled the streets -the advance i^uartl 
of the rabble of fugitives that was pressing" on to seek shelter in the 
town. lie sought out the adjutant-general's office, where he found 
Rosecrans, dejected aiul careworn, talking to McCook and Crittenden. 
The courier i)roduced an envelope — Garfield's disixitch. Rosecrans 
read it, sjirang to his feet antl swung his hat above his head with 
a shout of joy. "Thank ("loti." he cried. " This is good enough, the 
day isn't hvst yet." I'hen turning to McCook and Crittenden he said, 
"Gentlemen, this is no place for n'ou. Go at once to your commands 
at the front." A few minutes later all three were rallying stragglers, 
directing detached bodies of troops that had lost their way, and send- 
ing all organi/.eil commands to Ross\'ille where the army was to be 
concentrated. 

That night under cover of the darkness, while the Confederates 
were jubilating over the victory of the day, Thomas stealthily marched 
his command awa\' from Horseshoe Ridge, which he had so gallantly 
lieKl. Before morning the Union arm\', soreh' diminished in numbers, 
it is true, but reunitetl, and reinvigorated with a stern determination 
to let the enemy win no more laurels, was once more drawn up in 
line of battle confronting Bragg. Twenty-four hours later the second 
line was abandoned and the whole Union army was concentrated in 
Chattanooga, where extensi\e and massive earthworks gave assurance 
that e\en with his comparatively small force Rosecrans might hope to 
hold the town against his enemy. 

So ended the battle of Chickamauga. It had been a costly strug- 
gle for both armies. "Never have I known bYxleral troops to fight 
so well," wrote the Confederate General llindman in his report, and 
he atkls that he "never saw Confederate troops fight better." To 
the valor shown by both armies the long lists of the killed and 
wounded bear testimony. Rosecrans lost in all 16,336 men, of whom 
1687 were killed and 9394 woumled. Bragg's loss was, killed 2673, 
wounded 16,274, missing 2003. Though the battle had been a tactical 
victorv for the Confederates it had been a costU* one, as these figures 




DRAGGING BATTERY THROUGH A MARSH. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 819 

show. Moreover it proved a barren victory, for after all was over 
Rosccrans and the Union army were in Chattanooga, and Bragg was 
still outside. And that the victory cost the Confederates so dear, 
and won for them so little, was due in the main to General George 
H. Thomas, who, with his 25,000 men on the slope of Horseshoe 
Ridge, beat back Longstreet and Polk and saved the Union left. 

A month passed away. The Union troops, penned up in Ciiatta- 
nooga with the river behind them and Bragg's men in front, began 
to experience the discomforts of a siege. One rough road, sixty 
miles long, over rugged mountain ranges, and through a country 
infested with the enemy's sharpshooters, was the only way by which 
sui)plies could be brought to the Union cajnp. In fair weather the 
perils of the road were bad enough, but when the rainy season set in 
the highway became sixty miles of almost fathomless mud. Wagons 
sank in up to their axles. Mules were mired and died in their tracks, 
so that the whole road was lined with the dead bodies of these sturdy 
animals. Meantime Rosccrans's army was eating up its provisions 
faster than they could "be replaced. Soon half rations became the 
order of the day ; then quarter rations, and before long the soldiers 
became so hungry that they would follow the wagons coming in with 
provisions, picking up grains of corn and bits of crackers that dropped 
from them and devouring them voraciously. 

Bragg meanwhile strengthened his works on the slopes of Lookout 
Mountain and Missionary Ridge, and as he looked down upon the 
white tents of the Union army, thought complacently that he need 
sacrifice no more of his gallant soldiers to complete the discomfiture of 
Rosccrans, but would let starvation do the work for him. 

But Bragg was not destined to enjoy so easy a triumph. The 
authorities at Washington knew of the perilous plight in which Rosc- 
crans was placed, and were taking active steps to relieve him. Sher- 
man was detached from Grant's forces near Vicksburg and ordered to 
Chattanooga. Hooker and Howard with their two corps were de- 



320 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

tached from the Army of the Potomac and sent to Tennessee 
Finally the Secretary of War himself left Washington, went to Louis- 
ville, where he met General Grant, who had been summoned thither by 
telegraph, and put that officer in command of all the Union armies 
between the Alleghanies and the Mississippi. Rosecrans was next 
relieved of his command at Chattanooga and Thomas appointed in his 
stead. 

"You must hold Chattanooga at all hazards," telegraphed Grant to 
the new commander. 

"We will hold the town till we starve," was the sturdy reply. 

Hastening on to Chattanooga, Grant found the situation there 
quite as threatening as indicated by Thomas's dispatch. The army had 
not ammunition enough for a battle. It had barely enough provisions 
to ward off for ten days absolute starvation. Something had to be 
done, and that quickly. Rosecrans had already arranged a plan 
to open a line for bringing supplies to the army. Bridgeport, far 
down the Avinding' river, was the Union base of supplies and there 
Hooker's corps was sent. A few miles down the river from Chat- 
tanooga was the landing-place called Brown's Ferry, and from the 
town to this ferry was a road on the north side of the river, cross- 
ing the tongue of land known as Moccasin Point and secure from 
the enemy's fire. The task which Grant had to perform was to 
sweep the enemy away from the river and the road between Bridge- 
port and Brown's Ferry, so that both steamers and wagons could be 
used to bring supplies to the beleaguered Army of the Cumberland. 
This plan, though seemingly difficult, was carried out with but little 
opposition from the enemy. Eighteen hundred men under General 
Hazen embarked in great flat-bottomed boats built 'oy the soldiers at 
Chattanooga and floated silently down the stream at dead of night, past 
seven miles of hostile pickets who caught no glimpse of the floating 
column. At Brown's Ferry they disembarked on the south side of the 
river, driving away quickly the enemy's pickets posted there. A force 
of 1 200 men meantime had marched across Moccasin Point to the other 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



321 



side of the ferry, and these were now quickly kn'i^^^^^^^^^'Z^^ 
shovels were called into play, and before the astonished Confederates 
could attack these intruders, a line of abatis and earthworks was u 

Hooker had done h,s part valiantly and well. He marched up the 

ide JnT, 'T" T'"" "^ ''"'' '^^^^-'"^ '"^ Confede'rate 
as,de, and, leav.ng detachments to guard the ^posed points, formed a 

mn w,th the troops at the ferry. By nightfall of the .8th o 
October, supphes for the Union troops in Chattanooga, instead of 
bemg carted for si..ty miles over an unsafe road exposed to the 
a ds of the enemy, could be brought in over a perfectly well pro- 
tected road twenty-eight miles long, or could be brought on steamers 

road to the Unton camp. A little steamer which had been made 

■n a flat-bottomed scow, made the first trip and brought .40000 
rat,ons to the half-starved soldiers at Chattanooga. "It is har^ f" 

L.eneral Grant. The men were soon re-clothed and well fed- an 
abundance of ammunition was brought up. and a cheerfulness prevailed 
before enjoyed in many weeks. Neither officers nor men looked 
upon themselves any longer as doomed. The weak and languid 
appearance of the troops, so visible before, disappeared at once I 
do not know what the effect was on the other side, but assume it 
must have been correspondingly depressing." 

What the "effect was upon the other side," may be iud<.ed from 
the comment of a Richmond newspaper, which said: "Tire darin. 
surprise m the Lookout Valley on the nights of the 36th and ^nh 
has deprived us of the fruits of Chickamauga." 

It must not not be supposed, however, that the Confederates 
relinquished without ,strikin<r a return hlo,„ fl, ■ 
T, . ,. , ^I'Miit, a return blow their command over the 

Union Ime of communication. At midnight of the 38th. Gearv who 
had been stationed at Wauhatchie, was furiously attacked by Steven- 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



son's Confederate division. The enemy had hoped to surprise Geary, 
but he was ready for them, and though attacked from three sides at 
once, held his assailants gallantly at bay until Schurz came to his 
aid and drove the enemy off. The Confederates sacrificed several 
hundred men, but the road over which the Union rations were com- 
ing was still safe. 

There followed a ^nonth of inaction. Sherman was coming up 
from Vicksburg, and Grant's men simply sat in the trenches at Chat- 
tanooga and waited. A sort of truce existed between the two armies. 
At places the picket lines were scarcely a hundred yards apart, 
but there was no firing on the pickets. Both armies drew water 
amicably from the same stream. At night the blue-coats about 
their cam]) fires could hear the strains of "Dixie" or the "Bonny 
l^lue Flag" floating from the Confederate camps, and would 
respond with the patriotic notes of "Hail Columbia" and the "Star 
Spangled Banner." By day the signal flags of the enemy could be 
seen waving messages from Lookout Mountain to Missionary Ridge, 
and all the ingenious minds in Grant's army were trying to make 
out what those messages were. 

One day General Grant rode down to the Union picket line. 
"Turn out th : guard for the commanding general," cried the first 
picket who saw him. "Never mind the guard," said Grant good- 
humoredly. But the Confederate pickets too had seen who the 
visitor was. "Turn out the guard for the commanding general. 
General Grant," they cried, and in a moment a rank of gray-clad 
men faced Grant and gravely presented arms. He politely returned 
the salute and passed on. 

This tacit armistice between the hostile armies was terminated 
about the middle of November by Bragg, who sent Longstreet up 
into the mountains of eastern Tennessee to drive Ikirnside out of 
Knoxville. A fatal error this on the part of the Confederate com- 
mander, for at the moment when he thus weakened his arm\- by send- 
ing awa\' his ablest corps comm<inder, and a heavy body of troops, 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. i.2S 



Grant was strengthening his army in every way and preparing to drive 
the Confederates from the lines with which they surrounded him. 
But Bragg thought his position impregnable, and this over-confidence 
led to his destruction. Moreover, his sending Longstreet into eastern 
Tennessee hastened Grant's attack. The mountaineers of that section 
had always been loyal to the Union, and President Lincoln was very 
anxious to keep Confederate forces away from their homes. It was 
thought that the best way to force Longstreet to abandon his expedi- 
tion against Knoxville would be to attack Bragg vigorously, and this 
Grant was ordered to do. The result was the battle of Chattanooga, 
made up of the three distinct actions of Lookout Mountain, Chat- 
tanooga, and Missionary Ridge. 

It will be remembered that Bragg's lines surrounded Chattanooga 
on its landward side in the form of a huge semicircle, the ends rest- 
ing on the Tennessee River on either side of the town. The Con- 
federate right flank was at the point where Missionary Ridge slopes 
down to the river, the left flank was on the northern end of Lookout 
Mountain. Grant's plan of action was to wait until Sherman could 
come up with his full command, then have him cross the river at 
Missionary Ridge and make the main attack there, while Thomas in 
the center and Hooker on the slope of Lookout Mountain should 
attack the enemy with just enough vigor to prevent any reinforcements 
being sent to the right flank. In the main this plan of action was 
adhered to, though as we shall see the enthusiasm and the gallantry 
of the troops under Hooker and Thomas made them really the heroes 
of the day, and so far from merely acting to divert Bragg's attention 
from Sherman they themselves won the greatest triumphs of the bat- 
tle of Chattanooga. 

On the 2oth of November Grant received a strange message from 
Bragg. It read, "As there may still be some non-combatants in 
Chattanooga I deem it proper to notify you that prudence would 
dictate their early withdrawal." 

Grant was somewhat perplexed by this message. He felt sure 



324 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



that Bragg could not be contemplating an attack. He knew that 
Bragg was still sending away troops to help Longstreet, and deserters 
from the Confederate camp gave him information which seemed to 
indicate that his foe was planning a retreat. He determined to test 
the enemy's intentions. So, shortly after noon on the 23d, those of 
the Confederates who were in position to see saw the troops of Gran- 
ger, Sheridan, and Wood forming in front of the town as if for a 
review. But those who thought it a mere military pageant were 
quickly undeceived, for the long blue line swept quickly forward, driv- 
ing in the Confederate pickets and charging the rifle-pits. Though 
from all the hills around the Confederate cannon were roaring and 
flaming, the men in gray could not hold their ground. Before they 
could hurry forward more troops to the threatened point the line of 
fortifications hitherto held by them was in possession of the Federals. 
It took but little time to turn the earthworks to face the other way, 
and by night the Union line was well entrenched a mile in advance of 
the position held by it in the morning. 

That night Sherman's troops crossed the Tennessee and made a 
lodgment at the foot of Missionary Ridge. Their orders were to 
attack at daylight in the morning. Over on the Union right, around 
the base of Lookout Mountain, were Hooker's troops. They too were 
to attack at daylight. All were brimful of enthusiasm and confident 
of success. 

Let- us watch Hooker's attack first. It is daylight of a wet, chilly 
morning. A drizzling rain is falling. All the valley and the lower 
part of the mountain are shrouded in an impenetrable veil of fog that 
effectually shuts off all that is going on in the valley from the view 
of the Confederates on the heights. At four o'clock all is life and 
action in the Union camps. Hooker's men press forward, driv.ng 
back the enemy's pickets and advance guard until Lookout Creek is 
reached. Here a serious check is encountered, for the creek is so 
swollen by the rain as to be impassable in the face of a hostile force. 
Hooker begins a bridge and at the same time sends Geary with two 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 825 

divisions up the stream to Wauhatchie, telling him to cross there and 
return down the other bank, taking the enemy in flank. The Con- 
federates having all their attention fixed upon Hooker's bridge fail 
to notice Geary's movement, and he is soon attacking them in the 
flank and rear and spreading panic in their ranks. By eleven o'clock 
Hooker's bridge is finished, his corps has crossed qnd in conjunction 
with Geary is scaling the mountain side, beating back the enemy 
and driving them around the northern end of the mountain. The 
ground over which the Federals are advancing is rugged — a steep 
mountain side, covered with bowlders, broken with crags, ravines and 
rocky crests. To add to its difficulty the enemy had felled trees, 
over the trunks and through the tangled boughs of which the assailants 
have to force their way. Yet the courage and indomitable persistency 
of Hooker's men overcame all obstacles. The troops of the Con- 
federate General Stevenson fly before them. The Union batteries on 
neighboring hills and one across the river on Moccasin Point throw 
shells into their disordered ranks. By two o'clock the Confederates 
have been driven from the northern slope of the mountain and are 
flying down into Chattanooga valley. Then Hooker halts and forti- 
fies his lines. He has discharged the task assigned him, and he has 
done more. Ordered to attack the enemy vigorously he has gone 
on and driven them from a position which, even after his success, 
looks to all military eyes impregnable. 

The fog that hangs over the mountain has hid Hooker's lines 
from the anxious eyes of the watchers in the town below. Now 
and then a break in the veil of mist gives a hasty glimpse of the 
fighting, but for the most part it is a "battle above the clouds." 
But when the morning of the day after the battle dawns bright and 
clear, the blue-coats in Chattanooga see floating from the topmost peak 
of Lookout Mountain the stars and stripes, and a cheer runs along 
the line of the whole army, for all know now that the backbone of 
Bragg's position is broken. 

Meanwhile, on the Union left, Sherman is doing some hard fight- 



326 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

in<:^, and achieving notable results, though no success as marvelous as 
the taking of Lookout Mountain attends his efforts. He reaches 
the crest of the hill, advancing all the time in the face of a heavy 
infantry fire, and finds when he gets there that the enemy has re- 
treated across a gully to another part of the ridge — Tunnel Hill they 
call it, because pierced to allow the passage of a railroad. Sher- 
man concludes to advance no further to-day, so fortifies the 
position he has won, and sends tidings of his success to Grant. 
"Attack to-morrow at daylight," is the order Grant sends in 
return. 

The morning of the 25th comes. No rain or fog now. The sun 
rises bright so that the officers in Chattanooga can see with their field- 
glasses all parts of the battle field. Missionary Ridge is to be the scene 
of the fighting to-day. Yesterday Bragg's line reached from Mission- 
ary Ridge to Lookout Mountain. To-day he will make a desperate 
effort to hold the ridge alone. The advantage of numbers no longer 
rests with Bragg. He has but 47,000 men left now. Grant has 
about 80,000, but not all these will be brought into action. 

At sunrise the Union attack begins. Sherman moves along the 
crest of Missionary Ridge and attacks the enemy in his front. Here 
is the main column of Bragg's army, and though Sherman's attack is 
spirited he makes little progress. The tide of battle sways backward 
and forward. It is evident that if Missionary Ridge is to be carried 
to-day it will not be by Sherman. 

Hooker too is on the march early in the day. Grant thought 
that by sending him down the valley to Rossville, he would threaten 
Bragg's rear and weaken the resistance to Sherman. But when 
Hooker reaches the Chattanooga Creek he finds the bridges destroyed 
and is delayed too long to make any effective diversion in favor of 
Sherman. 

Grant's plans thus seem to be in danger of entire miscarriage. 
How then is the day to be won? We shall see that when it was 
won it was won by soldiers, not generals; that to disobedience of 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 327 

orders was due the notable victory won that day for the Union on the 
side of Missionary Ridge. 

On the crest of Orchard Knob stands General Grant. He scans 
the summit of the ridge where Sherman is fighting and sees that he 
is making but little progress. His aides bring him word that Hooker 
is detained by the wrecked bridges. He sees that some other means 
of assisting Sherman must be devised. 

Along the base of Missionary Ridge is a line of earthworks. On 
the summit are other works well provided with cannon. Between, the 
ground is steep, rugged, and covered with brush and felled trees. 
Before the first line of earthworks is a strip of woods crowded with 
Confederate skirmishers. 

Grant determines to take this first line of works. It will at least, 
he thinks, draw some of the enemy away from Sherman's front. So 
he orders forward the divisions of Wood, Johnson, Baird and Sheri- 
dan — about 20,000 men all told. Let us let an eye-witness * tell the 
story of the charge that followed : 

"At twenty minutes before four the signal guns were fired. Sud- 
denly 20,000 men rushed forward, moving in line of battle by brigades, 
with a double line of skirmishers in front, and closely followed by 
the reserves in mass. The big siege guns in the Chattanooga forts 
roared above the light artillery and musketry in the valley. The 
enemy's rifle-pits were ablaze, and the whole ridge in our front had 
broke out like another yEtna. Not many minutes afterward our men 
were seen working through the felled trees and other obstructions. 
Though exposed to such a terrific fire they neither fell back nor 
halted. By a bold and desperate push they broke through the works 
in several places and opened flank and reverse fires. The enemy was 
thrown into confusion and took precipitate flight up the ridge. Many 
prisoners and a large number of small arms were captured. The 
order of the commanding general had now been fully and most suc- 

* General J. S. Fullerton, in " Battles and Leaders of the Civil War." 



:]2S BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



cessfully carried out. But it did not go far enough to satisfy these 
bravo men, who thought that now the time had come to finish the 
battle of Chickamauga. There was a halt of but a few minutes to 
take breath and re-form lines; then with a sudden imjudse and \\ith- 
out orders all started up the ridge. Officers, catching their spirit, 
first followed, then led. There was no thought of supports, or of 
protecting flanks, though the enemy's line could be seen stretching 
on either side. 

"As soon as this movement was seen from Orchard Knob, Grant 
quickly turned to Thomas, who stood by his side, and I heard him 
say angrily, 'Thomas, who ordered those men up the ridge?' Thomas 
replied in his usual slow, quiet manner, T don't know; I did not.' 
Then addressing General Gordon Granger he said, 'Did you order them 
up. Granger?' 'No,' said Granger, 'they started up without orders. 
When those fellows get started all hell can't stop them.' General 
Grant said something to the effect that somebody would suffer if it 
did not turn out well, and then turning stoically watched the ridge. 
He gave no further orders. 

"As soon as Granger had replied to Thomas he turned to me, 
his chief of staff, and said: 'Ride at once to Wood and then to 
Sheridan, and ask them if they ordered their men up the ridge, and 
tell them if they can take it to push ahead.' As fast as my horse 
could carry me I rode first to General Wood and delivered the mes- 
sage. 'I didn't order them up,' said Wood; 'they started up on their 
own account, and they are going up too! Tell Granger, if we are 
supported we will take and hold the ridge!' As soon as I reached 
Wood, Captain Avery got to General Sheridan and delivered his mes- 
sage. 'I didn't order them up,' said Sheridan; 'but we are going to 
take the ridge!' He then asked Avery for liis fl.isk and waved it at 
a group of Confederate officers, standing just in front of Bragg's head- 
quarters, with the salutation 'Here's at you!' At once two guns in 
front of Bragg's headquarters were fired at Sheridan and the group 
of officers about him. One shell struck so near as to throw dirt on 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. P,20 



Sheridan and Avery. 'Ah-' said the <,rcncral ; 'that is ungenerous. I 
shall take those guns for tliat.' 

"The men, fighting and climbing up the steep hill, sought the 
roads, ravines, and less rugged parts. The ground was so broken that 
it was impossible to keep a regular line of battle. At times their 
movements were in shape like the Hight of migratory birds-sometimes 
in line, sometimes in mass, mostly in V-shaped groups with the points 
toward the enemy. At these points the regimental colors were flying, 
sometimes drooping as the bearers were shot, but never reaching the 
ground, for other brave hands were there to seize them. Sixty'' flags 
were advancing up the hill. Bragg was hurrying large bodies of men 
from his right to the center. They could be seen hastening along the 
ridge. Cheatham's division was being withdrawn from Sherman's front. 
Bragg and Hardee were at the center, urging their men to stand firm, 
and drive back the advancing enemy now so near the summit— indeed 
so near that the guns, which could not be sufificiently depressed to 
reach them, became useh-ss. Artillerymen were lighting the fuses of 
shells, and bowling them by hundreds down the hill. The critical 
moment arrived when the summit was just within roach. At six dif- 
ferent points, and almost simultaneously, Sheridan's and Wood's divi- 
sions broke over the crest-Sheridan's first near Bragg's headquarters; 
and in a few minutes Sheridan was beside the guns that had been fired 
at him, and claiming them as captures of his division. Baird's division 
took the works on Wood's left almost immediately afterward ; and then 
Johnson came up on Sheridan's right. The enemy's guns were turned 
upon those who still remained in the works and soon all were in 
flight down the eastern slope. Baird got on the ridge Just in time 
to change front and oppose a large body of the enemy moving down 
from Bragg's right to attack our left. After a sharp engagement that 
lasted till dark he drove the enemy back beyond a high point on 
the north which he at once occupied. 

"The sun had not yet gone down, Missionary Ridge was ours, 
and Bragg's army was broken and in flight. Dead and wounded com' 



3a0 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

rades lay tliickly strewn on the ground; but thicker yet were the 
dead and wounded men in gray. Then followed the wildest confusion 
as the victors gave vent to their joy. Some madly shouted ; some 
wept from the very excess of joy; some grotesquely danced out their 
delight — even our wounded forgot their pain to join in the general 
hurrah." 

There was reason enough for the exultation of the men in blue. 
The notable victory on Missionary Ridge marked the triumphant 
climax of a campaign in which every chance had been against the 
escape of the Union army. For days before Chickamauga, Bragg 
fairly held the Army of the Cumberland in his power, and only his 
failure to act with promptitude saved that army. At Chickamauga 
Thomas alone stood between it and destruction. In Chattanooga it 
narrowly escaped starvation. Finally the egregious blunder of Bragg 
in sending Longstreet away enabled Grant not only to cut his way 
out of Chattanooga, but to inflict a signal defeat upon his enemy as 
well. It is no wonder that the Union soldiers went mad with joy. 
Nor is it strange that the Confederates, who had fought gallantly and 
were sacrificed by their incompetent leader, were filled with bitter rage 
against Bragg, and when he rode among them seeking to rally them 
with shouts of "Here's your commander!" they responded with derisive 
cries of "Here's your mule," and "Oh, Bragg is bully on the retreat, 
you bet." 

When the difficulties of the situation and the number of men 
engaged are taken into consideration, it will be seen that the losses in 
the battles around Chattanooga were not very heavy. In three days 
of bridging rivers, climbing hills and scaling precipices in the teeth of 
the enemy's fire the Federals lost only 5616 men, of whom 757 were 
killed and 4529 wounded. The total Confederate loss was 8684. But 
the Union could have well afforded to sacrifice twice as many men 
to accomplish the same result, for the victory at Chattanooga took the 
war out of Tennessee (Longstreet's expedition against Knoxville being 
abandoned as soon as the news reached him), drove Bragg out of the 



;'k;-j«s?^'.'T7^ 





IN THE WAKE OF BATTLE. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 883 

State, and opened to the Federal forces the gateway to the south. 
In another volume we shall see how such a stream of men in blue 
poured through that gateway as to overflow the whole southland from 
Atlanta to the sea-coast, stamping out resistance to the Union and 
wrecking the Confederacy beyond repair. 

Moreover the victory at Chattanooga added yet another triumph 
to the military record of the soldier who, beginning as a simple lieu- 
tenant in Missouri, was quietly and without ostentation building for 
himself a record that ended in his being placed in supreme command 
of the armies of the Union. 




. / u, \^, / ^^^ -- ?$^ 




CHAPTER XII. 



IN CHARLESTON HARBOR. — CONFEDERATE EFFORTS TO BREAK THE BLOCK- 
ADE. GENERAL GILLMORE IN COMMAND. — UNION TROOPS ON FOLLY 

ISLAND. — A LODGMENT ON MORRIS ISLAND. — ATTACK ON FORT WAG- 
NER. BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER. — THE SWAMP ANGEL. — BOM- 
BARDMENT OF FORT WAGNER. VICTORY OF THE FEDERALS. THE END. 




ROUGHOUT the war the war authorities of the North had 
looked with longing eyes upon Charleston and Charleston 
Harbor. Sentimental reasons had much to do with the 
desire of the North to take this notable stronghold of the Confederacy. 
There the doctrine of secession had its cradle. There the palmetto 
flag was first unfurled and the first cannon shots sent against the stars 
and stripes. In that harbor was Fort Sumter, over which the Con- 
federate flag had been flying ever since the day when Anderson and 
his devoted garrison marched out with the honors of war. But rea- 
sons other than those of pure sentiment also actuated the Union 
authorities in their desire to put Charleston under Federal rule. 
The harbor, with the channels leading to it, was commanded by Con- 
federate guns in Sumter and in the batteries on the shores. This 
made it a famous port of entry for blockade runners, bringing arms, 
clothing, and medicines from England and taking out the cotton grown 
in the Southern States. Though the naval authorities made strenu- 
ous efforts to close the port to the blockade runners by keeping a 

334 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 335 

large fleet of cruisers stationed at its entrance, and by sinking hulks 
in the channels, the swift, stealthy steamers still slipped in and out 
with great regularity. "Lines of blockade-running steamers entered 
and left the port of Charleston at regular stated intervals, up to nearly 
the close of the war," writes General Beauregard, who was in command 
of the Confederate defenses. 

The same reasons which led the Federals to wish to compass the 
fall of Charleston impelled the Confederates to make strenuous efforts 
to retain the city and the harbor under their control. General Beaure- 
gard, perhaps the ablest engineer ofificer of the war, was put in com- 
mand of all the defenses. Fort Sumter was strongly garrisoned and 
provided with guns of English make, brought in by the blockade run- 
ners. Great troops of slaves were taken out from the city and down 
the harbor in boats, and set to work building redoubts and bas- 
tions on the sandy shores. Soon there was no bit of land within 
gunshot of Fort Sumter that was not fortified and held by the Con- 
federates. Torpedoes, the location of which was made known to the 
captains of blockade runners, filled the harbor, and floating booms and 
rope obstructions made the possibility of any hostile man-of-war ever 
entering the port slight indeed. 

Nor did the Confederates confine their efforts to preparations 
for defense alone. In January, 1863, they sent out two ironclad gun- 
boats that gave battle to the blockading fleet and forced two Federal 
vessels to strike their colors. This occurrence satisfied the Union 
authorities that the blockade could only be made effective by establish- 
ing the Union forces on the sandy islands that bordered the entrance 
to the harbor and silencing the guns of Fort Sumter. 

South of the harbor's mouth were two large islands made up of 
low swampy land cut off from the main land by the Stono River and 
several narrow inlets from the sea. The southernmost of these islands 
is called Folly Island. North of it and forming the southern boun- 
dary of the harbor's mouth is Morris Island. A long narrow spit of 
sand runs northward from Morris Island, and at its very end was Bat- 



336 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 



tcry Gregg, the Confederate work which during the bombardment of 
Fort Sumter in 1861 had inflicted the most serious damage upon that 
work. To defend Battery Gregg from a hostile force which might 
land at the southern end of the island and take it in the rear, there 
was built Fort Wagner. This was a spacious earthwork spanning 
the island, which at this point is very narrow. High bastions of 
sand behind a deep ditch kept ever full of water by the tides, spacious 
bombproofs able to shelter the entire garrison from bursting shells, a 
line of chevaux-de-frise tipped with iron barring the way to the front, 
and a long strip of heavy timbers studded with sharp iron spikes — 
all these things combined to make Fort Wagner a defensive work of 
a very formidable character. In its front the part of the island border- 
ing upon the ocean was fairly covered with earthworks extending as 
far south as Lighthouse Inlet, which separated Morris Island from 
Folly Island. 

In June of 1863, General Quincey A. Gillmore was put in com- 
mand of the Union forces about Charleston. He found Folly Island 
held by the troops under his command, but the Confederates firmly 
intrenched in their position on Morris Island. Fort Sumter and Fort 
Wagner had recently met and successfully endured a furious attack 
by the Union fleet, and the Confederates were calmly confident that 
the positions held by them were impregnable. 

A skilled military engineer, Gillmore at once brought scientific 
engineering to bear upon the problem before him. The experience 
of the navy in the recent action had demonstrated that Fort Sumter 
could never be reduced by naval guns alone. So long as the Con- 
federates held Morris Island, no Union land batteries could be erected 
within effective range of the grim pile of masonry that guarded the 
entrance to Charleston Harbor. Gillmore's first task then was to effect 
a lodgment on Morris Island. To this end he began the erection of 
heavy batteries on Folly Island at points within easy range of the 
enemy's works. This was no easy task. The island was covered 
with a dense growth of dwarf pine, thickly undergrown with matted 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 33; 



vines and shrubs. 'T have never seen such a mass of briars and thorns 
anywhere else," wrote one of Gillmore's aides. There was not a 
road of any description, and the only way to pass from one end of 
the island to the other was along the beach, which was not always 
practicable at high tides." But though the tangled thickets vastly 
increased the labor of building the Union works, yet they concealed 
Gillmore's operations from the eyes of the enemy so that in twenty 
days from the time the work was begun forty-eight heavy guns were 
mounted in massive earthworks within range of the Confederate pickets. 
All had been done without arousing the suspicion of the enemy. 

The time was now ripe for Gillmore to throw a force across Light- 
house Inlet. His f^rst step was to divert the enemy's attention 
from the point actually threatened. For this purpose General Terry 
started up the Stono River with 3800 men and landed on James 
Island. This seemed to threaten an advance on Charleston, and 
Beauregard sent hastily a part of his Morris Island force to meet and 
oppose this expedition. Meantime General Strong, with a force of 
about 2000 men in boats, was making his way through the placid 
wmdmg lagoon, hidden by the tall waving marsh grass, toward Light- 
house Inlet. At daybreak of the 9th of July, Strong had reached 
the mlet. When the sun rose the Confederates were astonished to 
witness all of Gillmore's unsuspected batteries on Folly Island burst 
mto full cry. From the dense pine thickets came rapid flashes and 
jets of smoke and the shells fell thick and fast in the enemy's works. 
Four monitors, the Weehawken, the Catskill, the Montauk, and the 
Nahant, steamed in close to shore and added the thunder of their 
guns to the titanic chorus When the cannonade was at its fiercest 
the boats bearing Strong's storming party pushed out from their shelter 
and started down the inlet toward the chosen landing-place. They 
had a mile to go under the Confederate fire, but the Union artillery 
was well served and the enemy was suffering too sorely to be exact 
in aim, so but little damage was sustained. At the landing-place 
the storming party leaped from the boats into the mud and water and 



338 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

rushed up the sandy beach. The enemy fled ahnost without resist- 
tance. At nine o'clock all the Confederate works at the south end of 
the island, with eleven pieces of artillery, were captured, and Strong's 
skirmishers had pushed up within musket range of Fort Wagner, 
where the Confederates were preparing for a desperate defense. But by 
this time the day had grown sultry. The blazing southern sun was 
beating fiercely upon the glaring beach of white sand on which the 
gallant boys in blue had won a foothold. The troops began to show 
signs of exhaustion, and the Union commander determined to defer for 
a day or two the assault upon Fort Wagner. 

Great was the consternation in Charleston that day when it was 
known that the Union troops had won a lodgment on Morris Island. 
Even the most sanguine saw that the city was doomed. The mayor 
issued a proclamation advising all women and children to leave the city 
as quickly as possible. The governor of the State called for three 
thousand negroes to build defensive works. The newspapers were shrill 
in their defiance of the hated enemy, and the Courier said, "Let us 
resolve on a Saragossa defense of the city, manning and defending 
every wharf — fighting from street to street and house to house — and if 
failing to achieve success, yielding nothing but smoking ruins and 
mangled bodies as the spoil of the ruthless conqueror." 

On the morning of the nth. Strong ordered an assault upon 
Fort Wagner. Though led with the greatest gallantry the attack was 
repulsed, and the assailants retired, convinced that they had before 
them a formidable obstacle not to be lightly swept from their path. 
The musket and bayonet were now thrown aside for a time, and the 
troops were set to digging trenches and mounting cannon. Before 
many days forty-one cannon, rifles and mortars were facing Fort 
Wagner at short range. Then Gillmore prepared for another assault. 

Shortly after noon on the i8th all the cannon in the Union 
trenches opened fire on Fort Wagner. The Confederates sprang to 
their guns and answered with a will. From Fort Sumter came the 
occasional boom of a heavy gun, and all the land batteries on James 




THE CHARGE AT FORT WAGNER. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 341 



Island sent iron messages of defiance to the men in Gillmore's works. 
From the Union fleet riding at anchor in the offing the ironclad 
vessels soon separated themselves and steamed in to take part in the 
bombardment. Led by the Neiu Ironsides, the ponderous floating 
citadels steamed slowly back and forth before the fort, sending their 
shells ricochetting along the water to burst beyond the parapet. "The 
flying pieces of iron sought out every nook and corner of the fort. 
Its defenders were driven from one gun after another, seeking unwill- 
ingly the shelter of the bomb-proofs. The front of the fort that 
had blazed fire soon became silent and seemed deserted. When the 
sun went down no gun spoke defiance from the embrasures of Fort 
Wagner, but over its parapet the flag of the Confederacy still 
floated. 

The Union storming party then formed for the assault. It was 
led by the gallant Strong, who had been the first Federal soldier to 
set foot on Morris Island. In the van was the Fifty-fourth Mas- 
sachusetts regiment, free colored men, recently mustered into the 
service and led by a white colonel, Robert G. Shaw. Three brigades 
in all followed the Massachusetts men. 

When half a mile from Fort Wagner, the order "Double quick, 
march !" was given and the party rushed forward at a trot. From Fort 
Sumter and from the enemy's works on James Island a storm of solid 
shot and bursting shell was turned upon the advancing column. 
Wagner still was silent, for its garrison was still confined to the 
bomb-proofs by the accuracy of the Union artillery fire. 

But soon the assailants drew so near the fort that the Union 
gunners afloat and on shore had to cease firing lest their missiles should 
injure their friends. Then the Confederates sprang from, their bomb- 
proofs and rushed to the ramparts. The whole front of Fort Wagner 
was instantly ablaze with musketry. Howitzers poured deadly loads of 
grape and canister into the dark faces of the assaulting troops. 
Hand grenades and shells were thrown among them as they floundered 
in the deep ditch or tried to scramble up the steep glacis. General 



342 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

Strong was struck down with a mortal wound. Colonel Shaw was 
killed. Union officers fell fast on every side. The command of regi- 
ments fell to men who went into the fight simple lieutenants. 

There was a flaw in the preparation for the assault. The troops 
that should have supported the forlorn hope failed to advance. So, 
though a part of the gallant assailants scaled the parapet they won but 
a barren triumph. No reenforcements came to widen the breach they 
had made, and after gallantly defending themselves for a long time 
against superior numbers they were forced to surrender. Night fell, 
with the Confederate flag still floating over Fort Wagner, with nearly 
400 Federal soldiers prisoners within the enemy's lines, and with 246 
dead and 880 wounded men lying where they had fallen before Fort 
Wagner's towering redoubt. The total Confederate loss was but 174. 

The assault had demonstrated, for the first time, that the negro 
possessed all the soldierly qualities of his white brother, but beyond 
this nothing was accomplished. Fort Wagner was unscathed and 
Charleston seemed further off than ever. 

Gillmore had now seen enough to convince him that Fort Wagner 
could never be taken by direct assault, and the tedious labor of a 
regular siege was begun. With shovels and barrows the troops 
began to cut the face of the island into trenches, zigzagging back 
and forth from the water side to the swamp and approaching nearer 
to Fort Wagner daily. As soon as favorable ground was reached 
heavy siege guns were mounted and the work of battering down 
Fort Sumter with guns two miles away was begun. For seven days 
the heavy breaching cannon pounded away, firing directly over the 
heads of the garrison of Fort Wagner. "About 450 projectiles struck 
the fort daily, every one of which inflicted an incurable wound," 
writes General Gillmore. "Large masses of the brick walls and para- 
pets were rapidly loosened and thrown down. The bulk of our fire 
was directed against the gorge and southeast face, which presented 
themselves diagonally to us. They were soon pierced through and 
through and cut down on top to the casemate arches. The shot 




IN A MONITOR'S TURRET. 



BATTLI-: FIKLDS AND CAMP I-IRI-LS. 



345 



that went over them took the north and northwest faces in reverse" 
After seven days of this cannonade, Sumter was a mass of ruins 
easily held by a force of infantry, but mounting, no guns and useless' 
for offensive purposes. The Confederates had removed from the 
shattered structure all its guns, and mounted them in other parts of 
the harbor. 

With Fort Sumter now out of the problem before him, Gillmore 
turned his attention once more to Fort Wagner. While pushin- for- 
ward his parallels and approaches with all possible speed, he bcthou^dit 
hnnself of an expedient for forcing the Confederate commander to Sur- 
render Without further loss of time or effusion of blood. This plan 
was nothing more or less than to put a battery in position to bom- 
bard Charleston, if the Confederate commander refused to evacuate 
Morns Island. To build such a battery was in itself a most difficult 
task. Between the Union works on the beach and Charleston was 
a vast expanse of muddy marsh cut up by deep tidal creeks and 
lagoons. Somewhere in that broad expanse of mud and water the 
battery must be put for its shells to reach the city. An exploring 
party found the mud at most places too fluid to bear a man's wei^dit 
and from fifteen to twenty feet deep. To build a battery of heavy 
sand-bags, and mount in it a gun weighing several tons, seemed an 
impossible task, and it is related that the officer to whom the work 
was assigned made a humorous requisition for "twenty men eighteen 
feet long to do duty in fifteen feet of mud." But by the exercise 
of Yankee ingenuity and a good deal of hard work the task was 
accomplished and a lo-ton gun mounted behind a parapet of sand bags 
within five miles of Charleston. Then General Gillmore sent to 
Beauregard an imperative summons to evacuate Morris Island and 
Tort Sumter, declaring that unless this was done the city would be 
shelled. To this demand Beauregard gave no attention, and at mid- 
night of August 22, the Union artillerists, who had sighted the gun 
and fixed the range of the city, pulled the lanyard. There was a 
roar and then the watchers could see the slender line of fire traced 



346 BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 

through the air by the fuse of the flying shell. It disappeared, and 
then in a moment the clanging of bells and the shrieking of steam 
whistles in the city told the artillerists that the missile had reached 
its mark. The soldiers dubbed the big gun the "Swamp Angel," and 
maintained the bombardment until at the thirty-sixth shot the can- 
non burst and Charleston was safe again. While the bombardment was 
continuing, the Confederates, finding that they could not silence the 
Swamp Angel with the guns of Fort Wagner, hit upon the expedient 
of sending Union prisoners into the quarter of the city reached by the 
shells, and notifying Gillmore that he was firing upon his friends. One 
of these ofificers writes, "When the distant rumbling of the Swamp 
Angel was heard, and the cry 'Here it comes I' resounded through our 
prison house, there was a general stir. Sleepers sprang to their feet, 
the gloomy forgot their sorrows, conversation was hushed, and all 
started to see where the messenger would fall. At night we traced 
along the sky a slight stream of fire, similar to the tail of a comet, and 
followed its course until, 'whiz! whiz!' came the little pieces from our 
mighty 200-pounder scattering themselves all around." 

September came. The work of pushing forward the approaches 
to Fort Wagner was slow and tedious. The ground was low and 
sandy. The trenches could hardly be sunk two feet without filling 
with water. At times the tide washed over the whole of the Union 
■works. From the fort the Confederates kept up a continual harassing 
fusillade. Gillmore saw that the spirits of his men were drooping, and 
determined to take steps to hasten the end of the siege. 

Accordingly, on the 5th of the month, a furious cannonade was 
directed upon the Confederate works. From the Union lines seven- 
teen siege and Coehorn mortars threw shells incessantly into the 
enemy's quarters. Fourteen heavy Parrott guns hurled their missiles 
against the bomb-proofs. Ten light siege guns sought out every nook 
and cranny of the fort with their projectiles. During the day the 
New Ironsides steamed close to the fort and added her eight guns 
to the formidable force of artillery that was pounding away at the 




MORTAR BATTERY IN ACTION. 



BATTLE FIELDS AND CAMP FIRES. 349 

Confederate stronghold. But the shore batteries were silent neither 
by night or day. When darkness came on calcium lights with power- 
ful reflectors threw their beams toward Fort Wagner, dazzling the 
eyes of its defenders and making it a prominent and easy target for 
the Union artillerists. For forty hours this cannonade was continued 
without cessation. 

The Confederates soon abandoned all efforts to respond to this 
fierce attack and sought shelter in their bomb-proofs. The fort stood 
grim and silent, an unresisting target. The Union sappers and miners, 
relieved from all annoyance from the enemy's fire, pushed their work 
ahead with great rapidity and soon had carried the approaches up 
to the parapet of the wall. All was then ready for the final assault, 
and the order was issued for it to be made early in the morning, 
but during the night the Confederates stealthily abandoned the fort 
and morning found the Union forces masters of Morris Island. 

At this point we may close our account of the military opera- 
tions of the second period of the civil war. The epoch had 
opened with the Confederates triumphant and confident ; it closed 
with them despondent and already expecting final defeat. At the 
close of the year 1863 the Confederates had been driven from both 
Kentucky and Tennessee; the Mississippi River had been opened from 
St. Louis to its mouth ; the whole Atlantic coast was virtually under 
the control of the United States forces; Lee had been beaten back 
from Pennsylvania, and Stonewall Jackson, the greatest of his generals, 
was dead. All was ready for a speedy restoration of the authority 
of the United States in all parts of the South, and we shall see in 
the concluding volume of this series how this was accomplished under 
the leadership of that great American soldier, Ulysses S. Grant. 

THE END. 



